The Prize
by quietthinker
Summary: A poorly thought-out competition from Principal Willoughby sends Lindbergh into utter calamity. Cindy and the rest of the gang struggle to survive its dangerous halls and claim the fabled prize as the clock ticks down. They face unending action, some visceral torment, more than a dash of humor, and a pinch of romance.
1. Never Ever

**Author's Note: I've got another one, JN fans. This one will be five chapters. I hope you all enjoy. As always, I'd really appreciate reviews and will be happy to answer any questions or comments you have.**

* * *

Hidden inside the ventilation system of Lindbergh Elementary School, James and Cynthia sat across from each other. The tight squeeze slammed their hugged knees together. Any movement dragged skin across skin; touch was unavoidable. Yet any flirtatious air flowing through those vents had been long been dissolved.

"How long's it been?" Cindy's croaky voice reverberated off the dusty aluminum walls boxing her and James in.

Jimmy glanced at his watch and felt his eyes twitch from the effort. "It's ten-thirty."

"Six and a half hours," Cindy mumbled in disbelief while sliding a grimy hand down her face.

"Maybe we should head down," Jimmy offered as another blast of icy air rolled through the vents. Sweltering heat was once more replaced by frozen wind. As he and Cindy hugged themselves, they both struggled to recall when they were last comfortable.

Cindy surmised this was back at the graduation party, when she and her friends had still adorned dress clothes and mortarboards. She smiled while remembering the gang celebrating in Lindbergh's gym, sharing cups of punch and plans for summer vacation. There were laughs shared over awkward memories over the past year. They'd recalled the time Carl became drunk with power while trying to impress Elkie, back when a giant-headed Sheen had tried to usurp Retroville, when all of Libby's birthday presents had been smashed by a frantic James. It was a good party, filled with sugary snacks and drinks and good company. The parents had mingled and left the kids to their own endeavors. That is, until the parents abruptly disappeared and Willoughby had made that announcement that had changed everything.

" _Attention graduates!" He'd cried out in that sing-song reverie of his. "I have a little game planned for you and the rest of the school, and a wonderful prize for whoever wins!"_

Cindy shook the memory from her head and instinctively reached for the rifle at her side. The yellow Deploy CS-6 had served her well since that announcement; she remembered finding it taped underneath the refreshment table. This gun, and the darts inside it, had enabled her and Jimmy to escape. She ensured the orange clip was in place, made certain that a blue foam round was chambered, and aimed the gun down the vent at the hallway below.

"Anything?" James whispered. He gripped his Hammershot revolver, pulled back the hammer, and waited for Cindy's response.

"All clear," Cindy whispered while settling back across from James. They lowered their guns and sighed in tandem. "How many kids are even left?"

"No way to know," he answered. "It looked like half the school got mowed down in the first hour. After that?" James could only shrug.

A growl of annoyance leapt from Cindy's throat. "Did Willoughby even think this through? How do we know when it's over? What if…we're the last ones left?"

Cindy's questions sent both her and Jimmy's fingers twitching towards their weapons. The friends locked eyes and froze their hands in place.

"I think," Jimmy cleared his throat, "the answers you're looking for are no, I have no idea, and not yet."

Cindy grinned and rubbed her arms in a vain attempt to ward off the cold. "Any food left?"

Jimmy rifled through his nearly empty backpack. All that greeted him were two dented cans of Purple Flurp, a single granola bar, and one spare magazine for Cindy's rifle. He offered her a soda and half the granola bar.

"Might as well take our minds off the cold," Cindy said while popping her tab and taking a tentative drag from the Flurp. "Want to play a game?"

"Different than our current affair?" James motioned at her Deploy.

"Much different," Cindy playfully assured him. "Let's play Never Ever. Know the rules?"

James had never played, but he was familiar enough with the drinking game. If you've done what the other hasn't, you take a drag. "Ladies first," he cracked open his own drink and settled in.

Cindy rapped her nails along the can and settled on, "Never have I ever cheated on a test."

"Really?" Jimmy cocked a skeptical eyebrow. "You've never even given Libby one of your answers?"

"Really," Cindy promised. "Grades are sacred, Neutron."

Jimmy shrugged and prepared to take a drag. "I'm assuming that you'd count modifying Sheen's brain as cheating."

"That's a fair guess. Drink, Big Head."

Jimmy took a sip and felt the sugar swim through his veins. "I've never been in a fight."

"No way," Now it was Cindy's turn to cock her head in doubt.

"Terry stole my lunch, but he never hit me," Jimmy offered. "What about you?"

"Does t'ai chi count?" After both kids pondered this, Cindy huffed in amusement. "And you were in a fight! Yolkus, League of Villains, N-Men? Those count?"

Jimmy chuckled at his lapse in judgement. "I suppose if you're persistent in being technical. But that means you're drinking too."

"I can deal with that," Cindy smiled as both kids chugged their soda. Cindy's mind began to fog over from the combination of sugar, fatigue, and hunger. She stared across the vent at James and found herself reflecting his easy smile. How absurd was it that after fighting for their lives for hours, after being cramped in an icy coffin, they could make each other smile?

"I got one," she whispered. "I never would have thought it'd be us two against the school. And that we'd not only make it work, but…enjoy it."

Cindy's words hung in the frozen air until James said, "Same here." Both kids raised their glasses and shared a drink.

"Well, I never," Jimmy began, but his turn was cut short by the distant _pop_ of a Nerf gun. The sound had barely breached the ventilation system when Cindy grabbed her rifle and aimed the barrel through the vent's grills.

As Cindy readied her weapon, James plastered his right ear agains the vent and closed his eyes. "Footsteps," he whispered while feeling around for his revolver. "And voices. Two."

Cindy nodded and sucked in a deep breath. "Distance?"

"Right below," Jimmy's whisper was barely audible. He could make out a deep baritone voice directly underneath, relaying instructions to his quieter partner.

Beads of sweat poured down Cindy's forehead and stung her eyes. She blinked hard, stared through blurry vision at the ground below, and saw a single orange sneaker pop into view. One more leg strode forward, a purple t-shirt appeared over umber skin, and she pulled the trigger right as a frenzied scream erupted from below.

"Vents!" A hysterical squeak echoed through the halls.

Cindy's target immediately juked to the side, just in time for Cindy's dart to whistle by his ear. He spun around, allowing Cindy to catch sight of the enormous orange rifle in his grasp. Cindy had just enough time to spot a pair of dark mirrored sunglasses reflecting her terrified expression. "Dirty campers!" Ike Burke roared. He flipped on his Stampede's rotor, the machine gun revved up, and a hail of orange darts blasted towards Cindy.

Cindy fell backwards and scurried away from the grills on all fours. "Did you get him?" Jimmy cried.

"Obviously not!" Cindy screamed back as Ike's 18-round clip was emptied at her perch.

"We're safe until he finds a way up here, right?" Jimmy asked. "Nerf guns can't shoot through ceiling tiles."

Jame's question was poetically answered by a _rack-roosh_ , then an ear-shattering _Pop!_ An enormous orange mega dart punched a hole clean through the ceiling tile by James' foot. It slammed into the aluminum above them and both kids scuttled away from the dart as though it were a true bullet.

"What the heck?!" Cindy screeched as the sound of Ike chambering another round into his modded sniper rifle filled the halls. "Split up and drop!" She scooped up her rifle and crawled back towards the vent as another mega dart spiked past her shoulder.

Cindy kicked the grill plate to the floor, jumped down, and rolled forward to absorb some of the impact. She heard another dart scream past her ears, popped up from her roll, and saw two third graders barreling towards her.

Cindy wasn't sure if they were working with Ike or drawn by the commotion. Either way, she raised her rifle, slammed the stock against her shoulder, and launched a dart center of mass. The closer third grader was struck in the chest at ten feet away. The second, a brunette sporting a long fishtail braid, closed in before Cindy could rack the pump and chamber another round. The girl was two feet away and had a FalconFire pistol aimed between Cindy's eyes when she made her move. Cindy spun her rifle around and slammed it down like a club on the girl's wrists.

The girl cried in agony and dropped her pistol as Cindy tossed aside her rifle. With fluidity that only five years of t'ai chi could muster, she performed a perfect somersault. She scooped up the fallen pistol with her left hand, threw her right around the girl's neck, and squeezed the brunette in a chokehold as she landed on her feet.

Cindy heard another _rack-roosh,_ spun the girl around, and let her victim take the incoming dart straight in the chest.

"Sorry," Cindy sincerely offered as the round slammed into the child's sternum. Cindy could imagine the deep purple bruise spreading over the girl's chest and raised her FalconFire at Ike. She didn't hesitate to fire, but Ike dove behind a bank of lockers and dodged the dart.

Cindy clasped the struggling girl tight as she stared down the empty hallway. She had no idea where James or Ike's accomplice were. All she could see was the bank of lockers that hid Ike, a classroom door across from it, and behind that the corner of a new hallway.

"Toss the Sledgefire!" Ike roared. Cindy took a few cautious steps forward and watched as Ike's enormous sniper rifle slid towards the bend in the corridor.

A set of plump pale fingers reached around the corner and yanked the rifle back just as the same squeaky voice from before shouted out, "Which one's that again?"

Cindy couldn't help but lower her pistol as she finally recognized the tone. "Carl?!" she cried out in disbelief.

A mop of curly red hair peeked out form bend in the hallway. His eyes lit up when he recognized her. "Cindy!"

Cindy huffed in disbelief. With the knowledge that Ike was without a gun and Carl was no threat, she loosened her grip on her human shield and raised her voice. "Jimmy, you still around?"

"Yeah." The door across from Ike's hiding place creaked open and Jimmy poked his head out. "Was trying to get a drop on him from the side," he explained.

Cindy nodded in approval as Ike's deep voice grumbled, "Guess we're calling a truce? For the moment?" He clarified.

"For the moment," Cindy agreed while dropping her human shield. The third-grader hurried off to her fallen friend without a word, and Cindy paid her no more mind. She, James, Carl, and Ike slowly met up in the middle of the hallway.

Even after the most exhausting day of her life, Cindy managed a grin as Carl and Jimmy reunited.

"Jim!" Carl shrieked while wrapping his best friend in a bear hug. "You're alive!"

"Still breathing," James confirmed. He clapped his friend's back and pulled away. His jaw dropped as he finally got a good look at Carl's appearance. His striped shirt was covered by a bandolier which housed spare darts and orange magazines. A dozen various pistols were duct taped to his body, and another half dozen long guns were dangling from straps on his shoulders. "Huh?" Jimmy struggled to articulate.

"I'm a pack mule!" Carl eagerly answered.

"And a dang good one," Ike emerged from the locker and awkwardly plucked at his shirt. Cindy cocked his head; the boy seemed heavier than just hours before at graduation. He clapped Carl's shoulder before motioning at the classroom James had emerged from. "More secure in there."

"Good thinking," Cindy agreed. She and Ike trailed inside, then barricaded the door with the teacher's desk. "How have you guys stayed alive all this time?"

"Same as most," Ike answered while collapsing to the floor and leaning his back against the teacher's desk. Carl plopped down beside him. James and Cindy hopped atop of two nearby desks in the front row. "Sticking to the shadows, mopping up the remains after other groups fight. And setting a few ambushes ourselves." Ike pulled a crumpled carton of cigarettes from his pocket and placed one between his lips.

"We've seen things," Carl quivered as Ike lit his smoke.

"So have we," Jimmy agreed. The four kids fell silent, each becoming lost to their own memories. James settled on the Massacre at Gruber's Gym and felt his mind tumbling back to that fateful time hours before.

* * *

 _"Hurry!" Cindy screamed while shoving James' shoulders down to the ground. Both kids collapsed onto the harsh linoleum and felt drops of blood flow from their scraped elbows. Inches above, a half dozen darts flew past their heads from the guards at the bleachers._

 _"Working on it!" Jimmy promised while activating his laser pen and flashing it on the padlock before them. The cursed impediment to their escape crashed to the ground, and James flung open the gymnasium's door. Without thinking, he grabbed the back of Cindy's shirt and flung her through._

 _James dove through the door and grabbed onto it with both hands. He swung it closed with all his might, but not before one last image forever burned itself onto his brain. Yards away, back in the prisoner pen he and Cindy had escaped from, were a half-dozen first graders forced to their knees._

 _Four lay crumpled on the ground, the fifth was sobbing uncontrollably as he realized his fate. Butch stood behind him, Maverick revolver in hand, and racked the slide. Yet it wasn't Butch or the wailing soon-to-be victim that James was drawn to. It was the first-grader beside him; the one that had helped Jimmy and Cindy escape, the one who had assaulted Butch's guards himself. And even as that first-grader's friend was shot in the back of the head, even as that child whose name Jimmy didn't know accepted his own fate, all he could do was mouth the word, "Go," to James. And so as Jimmy watched the dart bounce harmlessly off the back of this boy's head, he did what his friend asked._

* * *

The four kids sat silently in the dark, until at last the memories faded from their minds' eye. Eventually Cindy inquired, "Any idea how many are left?"

Ike shook his head. "No idea. We're definitely running across fewer people each hour, but no one knows a firm count." He pulled off his shades, narrowed his eyes, and said, "People are starting to turn on each other."

For the second time that hour, Jimmy and Cindy felt their fingers twitching towards their weapons. Out of all they had witnessed that day, the cruelest thing of all would be when the game was down to its final leg. Only one person could win The Prize; that was the fiery open secret that constantly singed at every alliance throughout Lindbergh.

"So what do we now?" Ike asked the boy and girl across from him.

James answered his question with another. "Have you two seen Sheen or Libby?"

Carl shook his head. "We tried to find all you guys at first. We heard rumors that we thought might be about Sheen."

Ike shook his head. "People are mumbling about someone called Eagle who can snipe a target from a hallway away. That he's got a partner called Falcon who circles around with a rifle, scaring off anyone who gets close to him. But it's not a rumor, it's a myth."

"It might be real!" Carl rebutted.

"If it is, it's not Sheen and Libby," Ike answered as gently as he could manage. He sucked a deep drag off his cigarette and swirled the smoke in his mouth. Blowing it out through his nose, he repeated his question. "So what now?"

Jimmy felt Cindy's gaze on him, but all he could do was smile at Carl. "You kept Carl safe. We should all team up." He felt Cindy's gaze harshen just as the loudspeakers turned on. All four kids swiveled their gaze to the ceiling in shock.

"Attention students!" Willoughby's angry roar crackled through every hallway and classroom of Lindbergh elementary. James flashed another glance at his watch; he'd assumed Willoughby had long ago retreated from the war-torn halls.

"This game has gotten out of control!" Willoughby continued to rage on. "I thought I'd learned my lesson after last time; I switched paintballs to Nerf guns! How you all ruined this school with foam darts I'll never know! Do you have any idea how many times I've been shot in the eye? Do you know the damage that could do? My optometrist isn't even open tomorrow! So enough's enough! If this doesn't end by midnight, no one gets the prize! Figure it out!"

James and Cindy shared a horrified glance. Neither could believe that after everything they'd been through, after all the horrors they'd witnessed and experienced, that Willoughby could pull The Prize away.

"This changes things," Ike grumbled while throwing his cigarette on the ground and crushing it beneath his heel.

"It does," Jimmy agreed. He faced Cindy, who was clearly broken by Willoughby's news. "We can't just hide in the ceiling anymore. We need to go out and fight. And four people doing that are stronger than two."

Cindy thought back to the Deploy she'd left lying in the hallway, then stared at the FalconFire in her grasp. There were five darts in the rifle, six in the clip in Jimmy's pack, and three left in the pistol. That wasn't enough to take on the rest of the school.

"Fine," Cindy agreed. "We team up."

Ike stared hard at the blonde across from him while rising to his feet. "I'm sorry," he earnestly answered, "but I don't think so."

Cindy instinctively raised her FalconFire. Jimmy lagged a second behind but had his Hammershot aimed at Ike's heart by the time Ike was done ripping a Doublestrike blaster off of Carl's shoulder.

Carl's throat tightened and he began living up to his last name as two pistols were aimed at Ike and one at Cindy.

"The way I see it," Ike growled while cocking his two-barreled pistol's hammer, "is that if we all make it to the end, it's me against you three. Or five, if we manage to find Sheen and Libby. My odds are better on my own. If you want to pay me back for keeping Carl safe, let me leave here with all the guns I can carry."

Jimmy glanced once more at his panicking friend as he pondered Ike's request. "Neutron," Ike's voice boomed in his ears, "it's the right thing to do. Let me walk out of here. We had a truce," Ike reminded him.

Jimmy nodded and lowered his Hammershot. "It's only fair," Jimmy agreed while lowering his revolver.

Ike grinned and lowered his own gun just as a crisp _pop_ filled the room. Ike stumbled back in shock as an orange dart spiraled into his chest. He gripped his heart and felt his eyes widen as he turned to Cindy, whose finger still lay over the trigger.

"Ike!" Carl screamed while catching catching his falling friend and gently laying him onto the floor.

Ike pulled his hand away and stared bloody daggers at the dead-eyed blonde across from him. "Vortex!" he seethed. "What the hell! We had a truce!"

"Yeah," Cindy answered without an iota of emotion. "For the moment. And the moment's up."

Ike shoved Carl away and leapt to his feet. Fingers trembling in fury, he leveled his Doubleshot against Cindy's eye.

"It won't count," Cindy quietly warned him.

"It'll make me feel better," Ike growled back. He waited a long moment, weighed his options, and then holstered the pistol. "Screw you, Vortex." He used all his strength to pull the teacher's desk away from the door. Before stepping out into the hall, he cast Carl and Jimmy one last glance. "When she betrays you two, Ms. Fowl's class is meeting at the Candy Bar for breakfast."

"Hey Ike," Cindy's calm voice halted the boy's exit. He glared over his shoulder at her, and she simply said, "Leave the gun." Ike shook his head in disgust, dropped the Doubleshot, and stormed away.

Both boys, still stunned by Cindy's betrayal, watched Ike disappear down the hall. At last, they pounced on Cindy at the same time.

"He kept me safe!" Carl screamed.

"You didn't need to do that!" Jimmy roared. "He was lowering his gun, Vortex!"

"He didn't want to stick with us!" Cindy screamed back while scooping up the Doubleshot and tucking it into her right sock. She motioned at Carl while adding, "And look at those guns! Do you really want Ike Burke roaming the halls with a dozen rifles? He'd take us all down! Do you even want The Prize?"

"Not having to do summer reading isn't worth this!" James shouted back. He leaned towards Vortex as she did the same; their furious faces met an inch apart. "It's not worth losing who we are!"

Cindy shoved James back as gently as she could manage. "We're the people who left those first-graders to die!"

That blood-curdling image returned; the solemn first grader accepting that James couldn't alter his fate. "There was nothing we could do," Jimmy moaned. "We didn't have a choice then!"

"And we didn't now," Cindy shot back. "We let him go, we lose The Prize. We kill him, we just might get it. Simple as that."

Before Jimmy could figure out a retort, Cindy faced the wheezing Carl. She let out a calming breath and clasped him on the shoulder. "I'm glad you're still here," she assured him. The boy's breathing calmed, and Cindy studied the weapons he carried. She plucked a fully-kitted Retaliator rifle off his shoulder, stared through the scope, and jammed the stock against her shoulder. Retaliator pointed at the ground, she grabbed a Lawbringer rifle from Carl's other shoulder and handed it to James.

James and Cindy stood motionless; him refusing to accept the weapons and she declining to back down. She let out a weary sigh, and for the first time since Willoughby's announcement some life returned to her voice. "I did it for us."

Though Jimmy couldn't agree with her choice, he saw no option except to push forward. He holstered his trusty Hammershot and accepted the new weapon. After ensuring that the circular drum was was filled with darts, he cocked the hammer. He studied the few remaining long guns dangling off Carl's shoulders and asked, "Have you had to fight, Carl?"

Carl's gaze dropped down. "When we were first getting started, when we were collecting the guns," he paused and abruptly whimpered, "there were these second-graders. Ike was distracted, so I…I…"

"It's alright," Jimmy assured him. He plucked an Elite Rought Cut shotgun off of Carl's shoulder, handed it to his friend, and said, "Drop the other long guns so we can move better. And use that if you have to."

Carl sucked in a deep crisp breath, nodded in resolution, and racked the fore-end. Together the trio stepped out of the classroom into the school beyond.


	2. Back From the Edge

The three friends made their way down the dark halls, guns leveled all around. Cindy took point, James was a step behind with his gun swiveling to the doors they approached on each side, and Carl watched their rear. Each new step was illuminated by damaged fluorescent lights, nearly every bulb cracked or sporting dents from stray darts. The lights flickered on and off, threatening to push the group's simmering tension to the boiling point.

"Anything?" Jimmy whispered.

"No," Cindy answered. She threw a fist up in the air, and the boys behind her froze in place near a bend in the hallway. "Jim," she whispered while pointed at a red spot at the wall beside her.

"Carl, keep watch," he said while kneeling beside a crouching Cindy. They both studied what was obviously a blood stain. The spot was roughly an inch in diameter and badly smeared. "Look," Jimmy told Cindy while pointed near the feet. Another smudged patch of blood rested there. "Scraped elbow, maybe?"

Cindy dabbed the blood with the bottom of her shirt, and noticed a tiny drop peel off onto her clothing. "It's fresh."

Jimmy poked his around the corner and looked down another long hallway. He spotted a few more drops on the wall, heading towards another bend in the corridor. "Look like it's heading towards the library."

"Guess we found where we're heading next," Cindy said. "If someone's hurt we can take them out easy."

"Agreed," Jimmy nodded while standing back up. The trio readied their weapons and made their way around the halls. The bloodstains led their way and within moments they were at the library. A pair of double doors awaited them.

"Ironic," Cindy tried to break the tense air with a joke. "Someone's trying to avoid summer reading by holing up in the library."

Neither boy chuckled as the trio halted before the wooden doors. Carl scanned the hallways as Jimmy and Cindy each plastered their face against a door's dirty window. Complete darkness greeted them.

Jimmy's hand hovered over the doorknob; he didn't try it until Cindy offered a nod of approval. It was unlocked, and Jimmy pushed it open while taking cover against the nearby wall. Carl plastered himself beside Jimmy, and Cindy repeated James' actions with her door. No stream of bullets poured through the entryways, so they peered once more into the dark library.

This time, some of the hallway's dim light poured into the vast athenaeum. Cindy knelt down to a crouch, the boys mirrored her stance, and the three formed a horizontal line as they cautiously ventured past the doors.

"Something's not right," Jimmy whispered. He stared at the open space before him. Normally, there were a quartet of chairs to his left near a shelf of newspapers and magazines. Straight ahead there were supposed to be three circular tables. To his right normally rested two cozy beanbag chairs where he'd wasted many an early morning reading. Yet at that moment, all of the furniture was gone. There was only an empty space, fifteen feet square, lying before the shelves of books that flanked the computer tables. Most curiously, there were a pair of bookshelves flanking the double doors.

Carl was halfway through his next step forward into the wide open territory when he felt pressure against his foot. He peered down just in time to see a stretch of fishing line go taut against his stride. After that, everything happened at once.

"Tripwire!" Jimmy roared while following Carl's gaze.

The line broke and the lights flashed on.

Blinded by the intense fluorescence, Jimmy barely saw an AccuStrike dart slamming into Carl's chest.

Cindy spun around to lead the group out of the trap, but the two bookcases tumbled down, completely sealing them in.

For a split second, James and Cindy shared a terrified glance as Carl crumpled to the floor. The single breath they had to spare lasted an eternity as they stared into terrified eyes, then glanced at the center of the library. From every angle, they could spot blue and orange guns moving into place.

"Cover!" Cindy roared. Jimmy was about to protest that there was none, but Cindy grabbed his arm and yanked him down behind Carl's plump form. She crammed against the right of his back as James huddled to her left.

Innumerable _pops_ and whistling darts filled the library as Jimmy and Cindy made themselves as small as possible. Streams of orange and blue round slammed into their friend. Each caused an agonizing cry of "Scapula!" as they inexplicably homed in on his shoulder.

Between haggard breaths, Jimmy tossed aside his unwieldy Lawbringer and yanked out his trusted revolver. He cocked the hammer and blind-fired rounds over Carl's flank. "We need to move!"

"No!" Cindy started shooting as Jimmy plucked darts from Carl's bandolier to reload. She leaned back and studied the streams of darts as they spiraled into the sobbing Carl. "Automatic in the middle, slow streams left and right, semi-auto in between."

Jimmy nodded. "Five enemies. Stationary heavy gun in the middle, flanked by rifles, in turn bounded by snipers."

Cindy and Jimmy tucked themselves still tighter as Carl loudly pondered why was this happening to him. "Wait for a break in the auto fire," Cindy ordered over Carl's pleas for divine intervention. "Then blind-cover me to the right. I'll pick off my end's sniper."

Five seconds later the rapid stream of darts pounding Carl's scapula ceased. Jimmy fanned his revolver's hammer and let loose a barrage of rounds to his right. Cindy peeked out the side, aimed down her Retaliator's scope, and spotted the red Centurion lying across a computer table. She locked onto the mound of red hair behind it and launched a dart straight into the middle of Emily's thin face.

"One down!" Cindy triumphantly roared as her classmate crumpled to the floor. She pumped the forward grip and readied another dart.

As Jimmy grabbed more rounds from Carl's vest, a high-pitched debonair voice shouted, "Cease fire!" As Cindy contemplated using the break to search for another target, the unseen voice shouted, "Is that Jimmy out there?"

Cindy's teeth instinctively clenched as she recognized the voice. "Quinlan?"

Across the library, Betty's face was hidden behind the double drum barrels of her Rhino-Fire machine gun. She frowned at Emily's crumpled form, then stared at her three remaining comrades. Two were Reg and Jeff, fourth-graders she had never spoken to before undertaking this quest for The Prize. The only one who mattered was the raven-haired boy beside her. Nick Dean raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her stare.

"We need to replace Emily," Betty explained.

Nick took a moment, then nodded in agreement. "When we're the last ones, we can take him out easy."

Betty stared back down her sights at the tear-stricken boy shielding his friends. She tried to get a shot at Jimmy and Cindy behind him, but couldn't angle her gun over his rapidly purpling skin. "Well?" she shouted at her hiding targets.

Back behind Carl, Jimmy shouted, "Yeah, I'm here!" Cindy shot him a venomous glare, but he simply shrugged.

"You took out Emily," Betty calmly explained. "We need a substitute. You should join us, Jim." Though Betty hated what she was doing, though she never had wanted to be this type of girl, the allure of The Prize was too strong. She shifted the pitch of her voice, tried to sound helpless yet enticing, and purred, "We were always supposed to be together, don't you think?"

Jimmy turned to Cindy, whose rage was rapidly giving way to dismay. James expected to find a rifle raised to his chest, but saw nothing. She was simply paralyzed and broken.

Jimmy stared down at her empty hand on the library's carpet. He clasped it and assured her, "I'm with you." Cindy swallowed hard and squeezed his hand with her thumb. Before she could say anything more, Jimmy shouted, "Not a chance, Betty!"

A moment's silence filled the library; even Carl had respectfully buried his wailing face into the carpet to give his brother a chance to assuage Cindy's concerns. At last Betty's furious voice spat, "Then take them down!"

"I'll get 'em!" Nick roared while vaulting over a flipped-over computer table. He readied his Delta Trooper, and Jeff followed with an Alphahawk slammed against his shoulder.

"I'll pin 'em down!" Betty roared. It didn't matter a lick if her targets heard her, they had nowhere to go and no tricks left to pull with with the Rhino aimed at them. "Reg will pop a dart in their eye if they move an inch. Finish them!"

Cindy stared into Jimmy's cerulean eyes. She was shocked to find not an ounce of worry in them. "Dying in a blaze of glory in the library while hiding behind Carl's body." She nervously chuckled and asked, 'Who'd have thought?"

"I can think of worse ways to go," Jimmy said while cocking his Hammershot. "Ready?"

"Always," Cindy squeezed his hand one final time, grabbed her rifle tight, and prepared to peek over Carl's flank. Just before she could pop out of cover, the sound of breaking glass rang out behind them.

Jimmy and Cindy swung around to find both of the doors' windows being shattered. A black buzz cut flashed by one aperture before an enormous red barrel poked through. Jimmy watched in awe as a Mega dart raced through the air and slammed into Nick's windpipe. He dropped his rifle, clasped both hands to his seizing throat, and crumpled to the floor.

A flash of black braids swam by the other window before the barrel of a N-Strike Raider let loose a stream of darts at the exposed Jeff. "Guys, move!" Libby's unmistakable voice screamed.

Jimmy and Cindy wasted no time. They burst out from Carl's cover and sprinted across opposite ends of the library. Jimmy swung left and managed to dive behind the overturned table separating him and Reg. He swiveled his Hammershot at Betty's face, forced himself to ignore its raw symmetrical beauty, and unleashed six shots. They bounced off the machine gun's drum magazines as she swiveled the gun towards him.

Cindy dashed straight towards Jeff, who lay prone on the ground. Libby ceased her fire right as Cindy stormed him. Jeff had just started to regain his footing when Cindy fired a trio of darts at his chest. The boy dropped his Alphahawk, which Cindy greedily snatched while tossing aside the Retaliator. She ensured the bolt was cycled, dropped to one knee, and shot a dart straight at Betty as she swiveled the Rhino towards James.

The dart bounced off of Betty's temple, and she collapsed to floor in a combination of shock and rage.

"Damn it!" Betty seethed while smashing both fists onto the floor. She continued to loudly curse her fate, but Cindy paid her no mind. She cycled the bolt and aimed her rifle at the last member of Betty's crew. The terrified boy glanced at the double doors and found Sheen and Libby finally able to force their way in. Sheen dropped to a crouch, leveled his Centurion over his crossed left arm, and steadied his aim. Libby marched forward, staring at the boy over her Raider's barrel. James rose from behind the table and leveled his Hammershot at the child's chest.

"Well?" Cindy asked between haggard breaths. As she crossed the library's open space, she asked, "Any last words?"

"Please," the boy pleaded while dropping his Longshot. "I-I su-surrender," he stammered as the gang closed in on him. "I need the prize!" he begged while dropping to his knees. "I can't do summer reading! I hate it!"

Cindy threw her rifle onto the ground and yanked the Doubleshot from her sock. She cocked the hammer, leveled the pistol at Reg's head, and growled, "Tell that to Carl."

"Please," the child begged.

Without hesitation, Cindy pulled the trigger.

The sobbing fourth-grader tumbled to the ground, and Cindy reloaded the spent darts back into the Doublestrike. She tucked the gun back into her sock and spun around, eager to welcome her sister and even Sheen back to the group. But she was distracted by a huffing Betty storming towards her.

"Do you know how long this trap took to make?" Betty roared. "We spent hours reading how to make a trip-wire. We had to read to avoid summer reading!"

Jimmy, having crossed the library to meet up with Sheen, knelt down beside the broken tripwire. "That took you hours?"

Cindy simply crossed her arms as a vessel burst in Betty's eye. "We deserved that prize!"

Nick rose to his feet and left his Delta Trooper on the ground. "Betty, chill. There's worse ways to spend summer than working on a book report together." He smirked at Neutron and extended his hand. "Good game, dude."

Jimmy was shocked by this display of sportsmanship; such events had grown sparser and sparser over the course of the night. He gripped Nick's palm and gave it a hearty shake. "Same here. You laid a decent ambush."

Nick whistled and twirled his index finger in the air. "Come on guys, let's get some sleep. We're all meeting for breakfast bright and early tomorrow." He placed one palm along Betty's back and gently led the cursing girl towards the double doors. "Good luck, Neutron. Candy Bar in the morning?"

"You bet," Jimmy nodded. "Didn't think we'd share another malt so soon," he mused while approaching Carl. Jimmy's good mood was shattered as he knelt by his motionless friend. "Carl," James whispered while setting a hand on his friend's diffusely bruised skin, "You saved us."

"Jim?" Carl mumbled while staring up at the bright lights above. He swallowed hard and grasped towards the heavens. "I thought I…I thought I heard Sheen."

"I'm right here," Sheen, screeched while sliding towards Carl's side. He clenched Carl's thrashing palm. "I loved you like a brother," Sheen bemoaned Carl's fate with tears in his eyes. "Go forth and conquer the afterlife, you stallion of Lindbergh!"

"Libby!" Carl croaked through dying gasps. "Oh Libby are you there?!"

"I'm here," Libby groaned while dropping her rifle and kneeling at Carl's side.

"I want you to know," Carl spat through spasming coughs, "that I always…I always…I always was a better dancer than you."

Libby growled, "It was a kick, slide, pivot, pivot!"

"It was a kick, pivot, slide and you know it!" Carl shot back.

"You're not even dying, you little twerp!" Libby angrily poked Carl's side.

"Am too!" Carl shot back while jumping to his feet.

"Guys, enough!" Jimmy tried to separate his feuding friends. "We need to focus on winning this thing!" Everyone fell silent, so he placed a tender hand on Carl's scapula. "I'm sorry you won't be part of it."

"That's alright," Carl easily agreed while slipping out of the bandolier and handing it to Sheen. "I was getting tired anyway." He began untaping the pistols attached to his chest and back. "I'm going to ice my bruises and watch Good Llamas Gone Bad. Give 'em heck, guys."

Everyone thanked Carl and bid him a fond farewell, then fell silent as he left the library. "We just got him back," Jimmy whispered.

Cindy nodded and stared around the room. "Well let's win this for him, then." She offered Libby a warm smile. "It's great to see you guys." Libby reached out and grabbed Cindy's hand, which she readily squeezed. Cindy wished there was more time, but they didn't have a moment to waste. "Jim, watch the double doors. Sheen and Libby? Help me grab whatever guns and ammo we need."

"Where do we go next, though?" Libby inquired.

"Can we stop by the cafeteria? I'm ravenous!" Sheen begged.

Cindy felt herself sliding into old habits as her face contorted into a scowl, but she pulled back before she could raise her voice. "Actually, we've never gotten around to that part of the school. You guys haven't either?" Libby and Sheen shook their heads, so Cindy turned to James. "It's as good as other any place to keep up the hunt."

"Its even better," James said with a half-smile. "It's got food." His grin came and went, for a quick glance at his watch revealed it was 10:50. "Seventy minutes left."

No more motivation was necessary to thrust the kids into action. Jimmy ensured his Hammerfire was cocked and headed over to the library's exit. He plastered himself against the right door and peered through the broken window. Cindy scooped her kitted Retaliator back up and handed Sheen the Alphahawk. He slung the Centurion's strap over his shoulder, plucked a laser sight off one of Carl's dropped pistols, and fixed it to his Alphahawk's tactical rail. Satisfied with his battle-rifle, he clambered over the flipped-over computer tables and ran his hands over the pristine Rhino-Fire.

"Libs?" He simply asked. He turned to his girlfriend, who was practically drooling at the machine gun.

"Too big to carry," audible heartbreak answered Sheen.

Sheen settled for snatching a few spare clips lying about the floor, but his hand froze as he caught site of a black cylindrical tube the size of his fist. "Sweet Robofiend's ghost," Sheen mumbled as he studied the orange strike lever and metal safety pin.

"Guys!" Jimmy's voice filled the library. "Let's move out; we're running of time."

Sheen scooped up the grenade raced after his friends into the halls.

* * *

The unending blackness of Lindbergh's cafeteria was pierced by a thin slice of red light. Taking point, Sheen crouched down and penetrated the dead lunchroom stride by measured stride. He dodged overturned tables and stepped over stray cans. All the while he swiveled his DMR back and forth, aiming the light all around.

"Clear so far," he did little more than mouth the words.

Behind him, the group moved low and fast. This was the most dangerous part of any mission; clearing a new, open, and dark room. Goosebumps ran down every arm and hairs stood erect on each neck as the four children kept their eyes open for hostiles and any cover to duck behind if firing erupted.

This time, however, no darts launched their way and no targets revealed themselves.

"Cafeteria clear," Cindy spoke freely. She flipped the light-switch at the back of the room. This earned the same dismal result as when they'd tried the one near the entrance.

Cindy's eyes had long grown accustomed to darkness. She turned to Libby and Jimmy, who were fruitlessly searching amongst the wreckage for ammo or food. "Jim? Falcon?" she asked with a smile. Libby greeted her with a smirk, and Cindy asked, "Can you block the doors? Sheen and I will check the kitchen for food and survivors."

"Sure thing," Libby promised while leading Jimmy back the way they'd come.

"Come on, Eagle," Cindy told Sheen while heading towards the swinging door that separate the kitchen from the cafeteria. Sheen silently followed suit, and they lined up on opposite sides of the door. "Ready?"

"Do it," Sheen nodded. Cindy kicked open the door and Sheen burst through in a crouch. He swiveled his laser sight all around, but no targets greeted him. "Clear," he mumbled while stepping forward.

Cindy followed and kept her stock pressed firm against her shoulder. She stared down the Retaliator's barrel, but nothing but long-abandoned chaos greeted her. She flipped the switch by the door and was surprised to be greeted by normal fluorescence.

She squinted her eyes against the bright light and watched Sheen's own gaze tear up. "Weird," the normally spastic boy calmly uttered while studying the room. Wire shelves normally full of canned goods lay battered and overturned. Their dented contents were strewn about the floor. The enormous stainless steel prep table in the center of the room was dented in the middle, and the fridge was overturned only a few feet from the door. "How come nobody made this a stronghold?"

"Maybe they did," Cindy shot back. She hopped over the fridge, knelt down, and realized it was good cover against any intruders who would storm through the door. "But one thing I've learned tonight is no plan or bastion lasts."

"Guess you're right," Sheen agreed while picking up a can of ready-to-eat pasta. "Our first plan was to find you guys."

Cindy rose to her feet and met Sheen's gaze; surprising solemnity brimmed in his eyes. "That was ours too."

The two shared a rare smile, and Cindy pointed at the can in his grasp. "Grab three more and bring 'em to the others. I'll find a can opener and be right behind you."

Sheen did as was told and was gone in a flash. Cindy had thought she'd be right behind him, but rifling through drawers and scanning the mess of bowls and utensils cluttering the floor failed to yield a can opener.

"We don't have time for this," she settled on scooping a dull knife off the floor and grabbing a jumble of spoons and forks off the prep table. She angrily kicked the overturned fridge separating her from the cafeteria. The refrigerator's door bounced open from the blow. Cindy's eyes widened as instead of spoiled food, a trickle of darts flowed out.

Cindy knelt down and dropped the utensils. She opened the fridge and found inside a small cache of clips and spare darts. Atop the pile of rounds was a Stryfe auto blaster. She grabbed the grey grip and studied the rifle. It was alluring, but she'd long ago learned that electronic blasters were a harsh siren call. If your battery died in battle...Cindy shook her head at the thought. She put the gun back and settled on scooping a few magazines into her pockets, but froze once she spotted a large Post-it taped to the back of the fridge. She plucked it free and struggled to read the tiny cursive print.

 **C,**

 **Don't know if you'll find this, or even if you'll know it's for you.**

 **But want you to know I regret never telling you how I feel.**

 **It would have made my time at Lindbergh so much better.**

 **I've looked all over for you. The only place left is The Graveyard.**

 **If I don't find you there, there's no point fighting anymore.**

 **I'll just wait by The River, hoping that one day you'll find me.**

 **Unknowingly Yours,**

 **A**

Cindy stared at the note and was surprised to feel a pang of sadness for its mystery author. She'd been lucky to be by James' side when Willoughby had made the announcement. This thought sent her reeling back. She studied the note and wondered, was her affection for James the same as the author's adoration for "C"?

"No time for that," Cindy shook the constantly simmering question of her feelings' for James out of her head. She put the note back in place, scooped up the utensils, hung her rifle by her side, and rejoined her friends in the cafeteria. They were huddled on the ground near the barricaded doors; she took a seat beside them.

"Any luck?" Libby asked while offering a can. Cindy nodded, dropped her gun, and accepted the food. She slit the top open with her knife, then passed the blade and utensils around.

"So where to next?" Libby asked while slicing open her can and devouring its contents. Everyone shared in her haste; the one hour mark was encroaching fast.

"No idea," Jimmy admitted. "I think we'll find people wherever we go."

Cindy forced another bite of cold pasta into her mouth and swallowed fast before the taste hit her tongue. "Have you guys," she turned to Sheen and Libby, "heard of a place called The River? Or the Graveyard?"

Sheen and Libby both reflexively shuddered. "How have you not?" Sheen shrieked. He turned to Jimmy for support, but the genius simply shrugged.

Libby and Sheen shared a disdainful glance. Libby asked Cindy, "Where have you two been all day?"

"In the vents, mostly," Cindy shot back.

"Maybe that's why you don't have nicknames," Sheen muttered.

Cindy glared at the boy and repeated, "So what are they?"

Libby set her can down and explained, "We've heard that the basement is way more messed up than the rest of the school. Apparently the power's completely out and the water pipes burst. The River's, well," Libby shrugged, "it's a river from one of the broken pipes. Kids head there to drink. Since there's no other source of water, it's neutral ground. No guns allowed."

Jimmy let out an incredulous scoff. "Why don't they just come upstairs?"

"Because they can't!" Sheen shrieked back. "The Graveyard's blocking the only way in or out!"

"And what the heck's The Graveyard?" Cindy bristled at his tone.

"Legend has it," Sheen deviously began to regale the group, "that a whole class of kindergarteners was slaughtered down there. Twenty-five kids mowed down when they didn't have so much as a Jolt pistol on them. They say you can still hear the ghosts moaning, wondering to the heavens why they were condemned to such a cursed fate."

As Jimmy prepared to poke several holes in this illogical tale, Cindy jumped to her feet. "Wait!" she snapped, sending three concerned stares her way. "If the power's out, would the intercom work?"

It only took a second for Jimmy to understand her question. He dropped his pasta to the floor and felt tomato sauce splatter his jeans. "They don't know about the deadline."

"Wait, what?" Libby frantically asked. She and Sheen joined the others on their feet.

"If the power's out," Cindy clarified, "everyone in that basement missed Willoughby's last announcement. Which means they don't know we only have an hour left. And if they're not coming upstairs -"

Jimmy chimed in, "Then the only way to win The Prize is to go down there and take out every one of them."

Sheen's face fell and he stuttered, "We-we're going in The Gra-Graveyard?"

Libby mirrored Sheen's expression as she asked, "And breaking The River's truce?"

Cindy ensured her Retaliator was primed and laid her finger over the trigger. "If anyone is going to win The Prize, not even our group but anyone at all, we have to."

"So we have to massacre them to save them?" Libby asked over crossed arms.

"Yes," Cindy agreed. Cindy turned to Jimmy, who clearly shared Libby's concerns. "We've come this far," Cindy explained. "We don't have time for anything else."

Jimmy stared at his watch and noted the numbers creeping towards eleven o'clock. He grit his teeth, weighed his options, and solemnly agreed with Cindy. "She's right. There's no time to gather everyone down there, make an announcement, and figure out a more honorable solution. We have to push through the basement and wipe them out."

Sheen gulped but grabbed his Alphahawk and made sure the bolt was cycled. He nodded at Libby, who reluctantly readied her Raider. "Fine," she muttered. "Let's do it."

The four kids yanked away their hastily constructed barricade, let Cindy take point, and followed her back into the flickering lights of the halls.


	3. Wait by the River

"Move!" Courtney Tyler screamed as her feet pounded down the long stretch of hallway. Brittany sprinted beside her, and Rose was right behind them until a dart to the back made sure she wasn't. Brittany craned her neck at her fallen friend, but Courtney yanked her arm down and sent them both crashing to the ground. "Leave her!" Courtney shrieked as a volley of four darts whizzed over their heads.

Courtney shoved herself around a bend in the hall. Brittany followed and a dart spiraled into her shoe right as she disappeared round the corner. "We've got to go down!" Courtney pleaded.

Brittany's eyes doubled in size as as she stared down the shadowy Forbidden Stairs. "Uh, I'm not going to do that!" She motioned at her foot and asked, "And does that count?"

The impassive answer came from behind her. "This does," Cindy said while cocking her Doublestrike and shooting Brittany in the head. She recocked the hammer and swiveled the pistol to Courtney's chest. The raven-haired girl tossed up her arms as Brittany stormed back towards Rose.

"We'll take that," Libby warned while rounding the corner with Jimmy and Sheen in tow. She swiped the white Rough Cut shotgun from Brittany, gave a satisfied glance at the flashlight attached to its tactical rail, and aimed the weapon at Courtney. Jimmy and Sheen mirrored her actions, and Courtney took a nervous step back towards the stairs.

"So what're you waiting for?" Courtney gulped.

"We need answers," Jimmy said while standing besides Cindy. He jabbed his Hammershot towards the stairs and said, "Rumor has it that you're the only one to investigate The Graveyard and live to tell the tale."

Courtney mustered her courage and answered, "I'm more cooperative when I'm not staring down lead."

"Then good thing we're packing foam," Cindy shot back. "Answer the question."

"Why should I? Rumor has it you're not one for letting people walk away from gunpoint."

"Who -" Cindy started to ask, but shook her head and stepped forward. "Because you've lost the game, Courtney. So you can either stroll out of here with a dart in the leg," Cindy lowered her gun to match her words, "or in your eye," she raised the pistol to Courtney's pupil.

As Courtney weighed her options, Sheen screeched out, "She'll do it! She's crazy!"

"Sheen," Jimmy snapped. He lowered his Hammershot and begged Courtney, "They didn't hear the announcement down there. If you want anyone in this school to win the prize, we have to go through the Graveyard." Courtney's resolve faltered, so Jimmy added, "Please."

Courtney sighed and admitted, "I wasn't in that hellhole long. All I can tell you is that I'd watch out for the vents," she cocked her head as Jimmy and Cindy shared a tiny smirk. "And I don't think there's any ghosts in there."

"Told you," Jimmy told the gang.

"I think there's demons," Courtney finished.

"Come on," Jimmy weakly protested.

"One last thing," Courtney offered. "You know how the myth says that an entire kindergarten class was mowed down in there?" The gang nodded, so she went on, "What about the two other kindergarten classes in Lindbergh? No one's seen a single five year-old all night. Have you?"

The JN gang shared a quick look; none nodded. They turned back to Courtney, who said, "That's all I've got."

Cindy kept her word and said, "We appreciate it," while shooting Courtney in the leg. The gang watched the grumbling girl storm away from The Forbidden Stairs and glanced down the escalier.

Cindy reloaded her Doublestrike before tucking it back in her sock. She checked that her Retaliator was loaded, ensured that her backup FalconFire was holstered at her hip, and faced her crew. "You all ready for this? It'll make Betty's crew look like child's play."

Libby looked at the eight darts poking out of her Rought Cut, flipped on its flashlight, and pumped the slide. She pulled out her DoubleDown pistol, made sure both barrels were loaded, and replaced it in the back of her pants. "Ready."

Sheen adjusted the sling on his Centurion, slid a fresh clip into his alphahawk, and cycled the bolt. "I'm set."

Jimmy cocked the hammer on his Hammershot and raised it to eye-level. "Let's go."

Cindy nodded and stared straight ahead, watching the light gradually fade down the long staircase. "Libs," she regretfully ordered, "take point."

Libby did as told and aimed her flashlight down the stairs. Each step creaked beneath the group's feet, and after a dozen paces they breached the basement's main hall. Libby pulled her foot back as it dipped into a puddle; a swing of her light revealed the entire basement was covered in an inch-high flood.

The group accepted that moist socks were the least of their concerns as they jumped off the stairs. They'd only managed a few steps forward when Libby swung her beam to the right. A simple wooden door caught the beam. Cracked pain on the frosted glass window simply stated **101**. "That it's," Libby whispered.

"I don't get it," Jimmy protested while pointing down the dark hallway beyond. "Why can't people just walk past The Graveyard and use the stairs?"

"Because ghosts can go through walls!" Sheen screeched.

Jimmy sucked in a crisp calming breath and motioned his Hammershot at the doorknob. "Let's just stay on guard in there."

"Right, against ghosts and demons," Sheen agreed.

"No, against an ambush!" Jimmy snapped. He cast a pleading stare at Libby and asked, "Can you just open it?"

Libby nodded and turned the crusty doorknob. It protested with a loud _squeak_ , but wasn't locked. Libby edged the door open with her foot and shone her shotgun's light inside.

The gang stepped through, and a blast of icy air from the vents above slammed the door shut behind them. Goosebumps raced down every kids' arms as they stared around in awe. Like the two other kindergarten classrooms in the basement, this one was normally a wide open space. These huge units were three times as large as Ms. Fowl's room and normally consisted of a reading circle, a nap area, and areas for arts and crafts.

Now, however, the entire area extending from ten feet beyond the door was filled with neck-high furniture. Bookshelves, chairs, tables; they were all shoved and stacked together to form a massive labyrinth that eclipsed the gang's view of the back of the room. Sheen immediately unslung his Centurion and leaned it by the door's entrance; the long gun would be useless in such tight quarters.

"That's," Jimmy couldn't conceal a loud gulp while motioning at the maze, "unusual."

"That's what odd?" Libby asked. "Not that?!" She pointed at the rolling fog throughout the room that further muddled their view.

"Well obviously that's due to the cold air from the vents combining with the warm water from the burst pipe," Jimmy shot back.

"And, um, those?" Cindy couldn't keep her finger from trembling as she pointed at the hanging dolls dripping in red paint that hung all over the ceiling.

"Arts and crafts," Jimmy offered.

"And that?!" Sheen shrieked while pointing straight ahead at the dozens of candles arranged in a pentagram.

Before Jimmy could protest that the previous inhabitants had merely needed illumination when the power went out, a high-pitched cackle erupted from all around them. The four kids stepped back-to-back, raised their weapons, and aimed all around.

"We all died as one today," a slow sing-song erupted from every wall. "The prize awaits so we will play!"

"Cindy?" Libby tried in vain to keep her flashlight's beam stable.

"The only way that we will win," the reverie continued as dozens of children's voices coalesced into one.

"Steady," Cindy whispered.

"Is for us to kill again!"

"We gotta go!" Libby cried while swinging her gun towards the door. The beam of light became their only illumination as another blast of icy air blew out the pentagram's candles. The kids barely had time to adjust to the darkness before Libby's beam revealed a vent's grill plate dropping to the floor. Libby swung her beam up to the ceiling where four beady eyes greeted her. The group shrieked as two five-year olds dropped to the floor, clutching enormous Nerf Strike Machetes in their tiny fists.

"What the hell?" Cindy shrieked before steadying her courage. "Open fire!" Her group did as told, but the agile kids simply rolled out of the dart's paths.

Maniacal giggling filled the room as the two kids spiraled in opposite directions. They jumped to their feet and dashed towards their targets. Jimmy and Sheen tried to shoot the one on the right, but he simply zig-zagged past their fire. He became lost in the darkness, so Jimmy dropped his revolver and scooped up a fallen candle. His hand plucked his pen laser from his pocket, lit the wax ablaze, and revealed a dead-eyed boy inches from his face. "Sheen!" Jimmy screeched while narrowly dodging the feral's lunge. The snarling kid seemed to spin his head all the way back towards James as he dashed past, but a clean shot from Sheen's Alphahawk drilled him between the eyes.

The other kindergartener slashed wildly while sprinting towards Cindy. Cindy fell on her back and kicked up at the emotionless child, sending her flying into the wooden door. Libby kept her light trained on the girl and leveled a shotgun blast at her head.

"Good?" Cindy shouted as Libby hoisted her to her feet. Jimmy scooped his Hammershot back up and held out the candle with his other hand. They all grunted in affirmation, but their relief was short lived as more sharp _thuds_ pounded on the vents above.

"More," Jimmy barely had time to say before the vent on the wall to his right popped open. A stream of kindergarteners poured forth just as more demonic children rained down from above, cutting off their exit.

Facing too many to fight at once, Cindy roared, "The labyrinth! Stay together!"

This proved easier said then done as the group raced into the maze. Every step forward brought a new turn, and with only two tiny sources of light to see by the friends were quickly separated.

"Guys!" Cindy screamed as Jimmy's candle and Libby's flashlight retreated to opposite sides of the room. All but blind, she felt chaotic terror mingle with the fog and wrap tight against her. "This was a mistake," she whimpered while halting in place and aiming her Retaliator all around.

She closed her eyes and tried to draw in a deep breath. "You can do this," she whispered just as the pitter-patter of footsteps bounced off the tiles behind her. She spun around, knelt down, and unleashed a hail of darts towards the sound. Two kindergartners crashed onto the floor and slid to a dead stop at her feet. With the stray light from Libby's beam, she could just make out the two kids madly grinning at her.

"Cindy!" She heard James frantic cry and saw his light heading towards the back right of room. She headed in that direction but bumped against a desk.

Cindy grit her teeth and kicked the desk with all her might. "Screw this!" She kicked it harder and felt it slide forwards. "Ignore the maze!" Cindy shouted at the top of her lungs while rushing towards James. "Meet at back middle!"

Jimmy crashed into a window, spun around, and fired a dart at the monster illuminated by a beam of moonlight. He spun towards Cindy's voice; it only took a moment to realize what she meant. He tried to push the bookcase blocking his path but couldn't get it to budge. A loud _thud_ landed to his right, and Jimmy fired three rounds at the sound. A louder _smack_ of a body crashing on the floor answered his blasts, and a dropped machete slid towards him.

"Ignore the maze," Jimmy frantically whispered while pulling out his pen laser and carving the bookcase in half. He managed to push his way in between the sliced shelves and kept slashing a path towards Cindy.

Libby slid to a stop as she realized she'd been boxed into a dead end. She spun around and caught two more kindergarteners in her beam. A shotgun blast caught one in the chest, but the other leapt at her face. She ducked beneath its stabbing machete and spun around to see it bounce off the wall and land on the floor. She stomped hard on its wrist clasping the blade and was shocked to hear no roar of agony. The hissing feral merely struggled against her foot, but Libby ended its suffering with a pair of rounds to the face just as Cindy's frenzied instructions filled the air.

"Ignore the maze," Libby figured out what she meant while racking her shotgun. "Got it," she whispered while running towards the nearest piece of furniture and vaulting atop it. She steadied her footing on the wobbly toy stove and dashed across the maze as fast as she could manage.

Libby was the first to reach the center of the labyrinth. She skidded to a stop in the circular open space, swung 180 degrees back where she'd retreated from, and fired two darts from her shotgun. They bounced off a feral boy's eyes as he clambered over a pile of chairs and sent him crashing to the floor.

Cindy came next as she parkoured over the last wall that separated her from Libby. She placed one palm over a rickety round table, slid her hip over its glossy surface, and landed in a dead sprint towards Libby. The brown-eyed girl fired her last shotgun blast at Cindy's pursuer.

"Reloading!" Libby screaming while shoving a shuddering hand into her jean's pocket. For each dart she managed to replace in her shotgun's barrel, two tumbled onto the floor. Cindy swiveled her Retaliator all around just as a beam of red slight sliced a nearby file cabinet in half.

"Jim!" Relief raced from Cindy's throat as she fired two darts over Neutron's shoulder as he madly dashed past the jagged metal. Two feral kids dropped from the rounds as Neutron joined the duo.

Jimmy pocketed his laser, unholstered his hammershot, and swung his candle around to study the wide open space the three friends had breached. "Where's Sheen?"

"There!" Libby's flashlight caught a hint of a black sheet of hair deeper in the maze. Twenty feet away and dead ahead of Libby, Two pink palms swung over a wooden cabinet. Sheen desperately clambered up the furniture. "Sheen, over here!"

Jimmy, Libby, and Cindy watched as the panting teen managed a smile. Then they felt their chests tighten as pure terror overtook Sheen's face. "Vents!" Sheen screeched as the bookcase began to wobble from the half dozen ferals clawing at its base.

The three kids in the labyrinth's middle stared upwards. Above and to the their sides, two large vent covers were billowing out from the weight of children. The grill plates crashed down, and the three friends watched it disappear past the furniture encircling them. A river of children rained down behind the round wall separating the kids from the rest of the maze. Cindy opened fire at the downpour with her retaliator, but the half dozen she managed to take out barely made a dent in the cascade of thrashing limbs.

As Cindy tried to staunch the flow of flesh, Jimmy and Libby swung their weapons at the entryways into their oasis. There was the one true opening; a two-foot wide gap between walls of the labyrinth; as well as the two paths Jimmy and Cindy had carved. "Got the gap," Libby aimed her flashlight beam at the two-foot breach.

"Got my end," Jimmy cocked his Hammershot at the filing cabinet he'd sliced.

Cindy ejected her Retaliator's spent clip and slammed a fresh orange magazine in. She racked the forward grip and aimed at the desk she'd shove'd aside to force her way in. "I'm locked on," she assured the group. "Sheen!" She roared while keeping her eyes drilled on her target, "Cover us from above!"

Twenty feet away, Sheen could see what they couldn't. His friends weren't just going to face the stream of kids that had fallen from the ceiling. More kindergarteners had burst out from the vents in the walls, and the ones snarling at Sheen had dashed towards the maze's middle. Nearly forty kids were getting in position, clutching their machetes and writhing in bloodlust.

"Too many," Sheen tried to shout, but the words barely croaked out of his throat. He stared at James' Hammershot and Libby's Rough Cut. The two guns with their measly rounds couldn't make a dent in the throng of ferals even with Sheen's aid. They'd get overrun, and then the ferals would leap onto Cindy before she had a chance to turn around.

Sheen knew what needed to be done, but couldn't gather the needed strength until he settled on Libby's beautiful face. He watched her braids swing about as she nervously glanced at her friends, and caught a glimpse of the utter terror in his girlfriend's eyes as she locked back on his. In that moment, as their pupils connected, Sheen felt utter serenity mask his fear.

In an instant, Sheen raised his rifle to his eye and launched a round at a feral's chest. "Hey!" he screamed as the child fell to the floor. He cycled the bolt and drilled another kid between the eyes. The pack of demons snapped their dead gaze on Sheen, who threw the weapon to the floor.

Sheen batted away one of the dolls swinging before his eyes and obscuring his sight. He watched the pack of kids arch their backs in response. Sheen grabbed the swaying doll and studied it. Three sloppily scribbled words were etched in trickling red paint across its chest.

 ** _Remember Timmy Folter_**

"This one of your friends?" Sheen roared while plucking the doll from the ceiling. He squeezed the doll tighter and watched the feral screech and scream. "Here's what I think of him!" Sheen ripped the doll in half, and an earsplitting cry filled the room as thirty-five furious kindergarteners roared with all their strength.

"Come get me!" Sheen pounded his chest and sucked in a deep breath as the monsters swarmed towards him.

"Sheen!" Libby screamed from across the maze. "What are you doing?"

"What I have to!" His composure, but not his courage, faltered as he realized he was leaving her behind. The mass of swinging blades and pounding fists bashed against the cabinet. He swayed wildly and dropped to all fours.

"Sheen, stop!" Libby howled as he pulled out the grenade.

Sheen didn't listen as he yanked out the pull ring. The furniture wavered once more, and the metal ring fell into the squirming ocean of rage below. Sheen's gaze followed its path; dozens of ravenous eyes and bared sets of teeth snarled up at him.

Sheen swallowed his fear as the bookcase leaned to and fro. He nodded at his friends, who stared on in horror. He offered one more solemn gaze to Libby and shouted, "I love you!" The filing cabinet finally tipped over, Sheen was flung to the ground, and he disappeared beneath the throng of swinging machetes.

"NO!" Libby screamed just as the _bang!_ of the grenade was followed by dozens of blue gel balls flying in every direction.

Libby collapsed to her knees and desperately raked her nails over the floor. She tried to crawl towards Sheen, but Cindy was by her side and holding her back.

"He can't die!" Libby screamed, but her voice cracked and pounded the ground. "He needs the prize, Cindy!" She swung a tearful gaze towards her sister and squeaked, "He's not smart enough to do summer reading!"

"We'll tutor him," Cindy assured her friend while wrapping her in a tight embrace. Warm tears spilled over her shoulder as Cindy patted her friend's back. She stared at the wall that hid Sheen's body from them and offered a grateful nod. "We'll tutor him," she whispered once more.

After the sobs had wracked Libby's body, after the trio realized that Sheen was truly gone, they finally scooped up their weapons and skulked back towards Room 101's entrance. Before they left The Graveyard behind, Libby tossed aside her shotgun and scooped up the massive Centurion that Sheen had abandoned. She cast one last glance over her shoulder, silently thanked Sheen for his sacrifice, and followed her friends back into the halls.

The kids turned to their left back at the Forbidden Stairs, then to their right at the rest of the long hallway that led towards The River. The corridor was shrouded in near-complete darkness, but a faint orange glow could be seen near the path's end.

Cindy turned to Libby and asked, "Are you ready?"

Libby made sure a dart was chambered in her sniper rifle before nodding. "Yeah," she growled back. "I am."

Cindy turned to Jimmy and, after receiving a quick nod, took point down the hall. They uneventfully crossed the long, dark stretch and ultimately came to a corner in the hall. Light poured from around the bend, and Cindy lifted a closed fist. Libby and Jimmy froze behind her as Cindy dropped to one knee. She angled her Retaliator towards the floor and peeked around the corner.

Before her lay a sight wholly unlike anything she had seen upstairs. Rows of lanterns hung from the ceiling, illuminating the corridor. Halfway down its length, twenty feet away, a rush of roaring water cut the hallway in half.

"Guys," Cindy motioned for them to join her, and all three kids studied the distant scene.

Ten kids were lounging by the river that flowed between two doors on opposite sides of the corridor. One child stood on a ladder, replacing a dead lantern that hung above. Three others lay shirtless on the slightly flooded floor, splashing their feet in the raging river. Two more children knelt on the ground over a chessboard. Another couple were grilling fish over a campfire. They turned and happily waved at the last duo, who cast their fishing lines into the River.

Cindy couldn't spot a single gun amongst them.

Jimmy shook his head and pointed at the anglers. "Now come on, that can't -" he was interrupted by one of the kids pulling back their line and revealing a snagged goldfish. "Huh?" Jimmy squeaked.

Cindy studied the happy scene before her; all the kids cheered as their dinner multiplied. Her grip on her gun loosened and she was shocked to feel it tumble against her foot. "They look," Cindy picked up her weapon and felt an envious smile creep over her lips, "happy."

Jimmy nodded in agreement. "Maybe there's another way."

"There's not," Libby told the group. She glanced down at Jimmy's watch and saw that only fifty minutes were left. "So let's just get it done."

Cindy knew that her sister was right. "We have to end this."

Jimmy didn't say a word, but readied his Hammershot. All three kids strode out from behind the wall, dropped to one knee, and aimed their weapons.

The first three targets were the anglers and the boy on the ladder. They stared in disbelief as whistling darts bounced off their chest.

Cindy racked her grip, Libby cycled her bolt, and Jimmy cocked his hammer. Three more rounds took out the chess-players and one of the grillers.

By now, chaos was unfolding at the riverbank. "We're overrun!" One of the lantern-bathers screeched while clambering to his feet and dashing away from the scene. The other two loungers helped each other up and were met with darts to their sides for the effort.

Libby aimed down her Centurion's scope as the griller followed the fleeing lounger. She drilled him square of his back and immediately chambered another round. "Last one!" She roared while taking aim at the fleeing child, but he hooked left and disappeared around the end of the hall before she could steady a shot.

"Take him down!" Cindy screamed while sprinting down the corridor. "He can't warn the others!" Libby and Jimmy footsteps echoed behind Cindy as her feet splashed through the river. The trio dashed right past the nine kids they'd slaughtered and ignored the cursed remarks shouted their way.

As Cindy approached the corridor's corner, she tossed her Retaliator to the floor and ripped the FalfonFire from her holster. She slid across the ground past the end of the wall to her left and spotted her target frantically shouting at a trio of fourth-graders behind him.

The frenetic boy screamed, "See!" as he collapsed from a dart to his back. As her target fell, Cindy realized the fourth grader's leader, a blonde with a pixie cut, was sporting a blue Hail-Fire. The massive machine gun revved up and then spat out rounds from one of its five clips.

Cindy only had an instant to watch the machine gunner's comrades unsling their own rifles. Two red-haired twin boys swung their Slingfires around their wrist to prime the levers and aimed the guns straight at her.

Cindy desperately kicked off of the wall she'd slammed into, then disappeared back behind the corner just as Libby and Jimmy joined her. A hail of fire erupted from the machine gunner, blocking their advance around the hall. "Three!" Cindy roared. With no time to reload, she holstered her empty FalconFire and scooped her retaliator back up.

"If we don't keep advancing, they'll get an army on us," Jimmy explained.

"Then we move," Cindy agreed. She studied the stream of fire racing down the hallway at chest height. She had no doubt the twins had learned from her acrobatics and had their rifles aimed at the floor lest she slide out once more. That only left one direction to go in.

"They're gonna be confused," Cindy told her team. "So pick them off after I take out the gunner. And I need the Hammershot."

Cindy extended her rifle towards James, who reluctantly swapped it for his revolver. Libby asked, "Why would they be confused?"

Cindy wasted no time answering. She sucked in a deep breath while taking two steps back, heard the girl around the bend switch magazines, and ran at the wall her darts had bounced off of.

Cindy saw two rounds from the Slingfires bounce off the floor near her shoes as she leaped at the wall two feet away. When her right foot slammed into the cement, she kicked off the wall and flew into a backflip. As her back arched over, she watched the machine gunner's jaw drop as Cindy nailed her between the eyes.

The twins hesitated a split second before raising their rifles. Cindy cocked her hammer as she landed, spun around, and nailed the right boy in the chest as Libby poked out of cover and sniped the left in the neck.

Cindy wasted no time reveling in their victory. "Keep moving!" She ordered while ripping her Retaliator back from James and tossing him his Hammershot. The group crouched down into arrow formation and followed the overhead lanterns down the hall.

Cindy grit her teeth in frustration as a four doors lined the hall on either side. And that was just part of the basement that needed clearing. "Some'll be empty, some will have stragglers…"

Libby chimed in, "And some will have ambushes."

Jimmy glanced down at this watch. "Forty-five minutes left."

If the clock hadn't been ticking down, the trio would have cleared room by room together. But Willoughby's deadline made Cindy order, "Libby and Jimmy? Clear the left rooms. I've got the right."

"You sure?" Libs asked.

"No choice," Cindy quickly answered. "So move out."

Cindy watched Jimmy turn the doorknob to their left and Libby kick it open. They both disappeared inside, and Cindy forced herself to move onto her own mission.

She shoved open the first door, burst through in a low crouch, and swept to her right. No darts flow over her head; only a terrified second-grader stood behind the teacher's desk. The tiny girl was dwarfed by a black butcher's apron. She clutched a saltshaker and was in the middle of preserving filets of goldfish when Cindy shot her in the forehead.

Cindy exited the room and continued on her way, clearing each room on her side of the hall. Two empty suites greeted her, and her nerves were beginning to wane when she opened the fourth door.

She was greeted by a primal growl and club of wood arcing towards her eyes. Years of honed reflexes took over, and Cindy barely ducked under the blow. She spun around, landed deeper in the room, and aimed her rifle at her attacker. The manic black-haired girl Cindy barely recognized as Yentl swung a broken mop handle down onto the Retaliator and smashed it to pieces.

Cindy reached for her Falconfire and shot at Yentl's chest, but the empty gun simply _clicked_ with dry fire. Before Cindy could recover, Yentl's staff slammed into her temple. The blow bounced off her skull, and a flash of light blinded Cindy's vision.

"You killed them all!" Yentl roared as the light disappeared. Yentl's form was suddenly blurry, and Cindy felt sluggish as she dodged another blow. "You ruined The River!"

Cindy stumbled as Yentl jabbed the smooth end of the staff towards her chest. Cindy managed to sidestep the thrust, grab the weapon, and yank Yentl towards her. Cindy thrust her elbow up at the last second and cringed as Yentl's nose was crushed beneath her blow.

Yentle's grip on the staff loosened, so Cindy tossed the weapon across the room while kicking the girl's shin with all her strength. Yentl cried in agony as she collapsed onto the floor. Cindy ripped the Doublestrike from her sock, cocked the hammer, and shot her classmate in the skull.

Cindy stared solemnly at her battered rifle before bending down to scoop up her spent dart. The room suddenly rose and fell like a boat at sea; her fingers struggled to follow her orders and kept dropping the round. As her eyes danced in place, she managed to reload her Doublestrike and venture out in the halls.

She clutched her head and leaned against the wall as frenzied screams rebounded all around. She swiveled her gaze to the right and saw Libby and Jimmy chasing down a fleeing third-grader. Jimmy managed a shot in the leg, and the boy stumbled before Libby followed it up with a mega-dart to the back.

Cindy watched her friends dash towards another turn of the halls. They scampered back behind cover as a volley of automatic fire came flying by. Cindy took a step forward to help, but the whole hallway was spinning. She closed her eyes and forced the billowing nausea down. "It'll pass," she mumbled while taking in slow breath after slow breath. At last, she reopened her lids. With clearer vision, she saw Libby aiming out of cover and firing an enormous dart down the halls. The automatic fire ceased, and then she and James were gone.

Feeling steadier, Cindy raised her double strike and walked towards the final door on her side of the corridor. A stream of water poured from the room and under her shoes. She lifted a wet sneaker, watched the current trickle by, and then pushed open the door.

Lindbergh had long ago innoculated her against preternaturalness, but the scene beyond still gave her pause. The only light in the dark room rolled through the windows and emanated from the moon high above. A broken pipe along the wall sent a torrent of water tumbling down; Cindy took a cautious step over the stream. All the furniture was gone. Man-made objects had been replaced by moss-ridden rocks and hundreds of plants. Rolling mounds of dirt ranging from inches to feet high bounded over the area, and hundreds of beautiful flowers in every color peeked from the soft black earth. A stray orange butterfly fluttered by, and Cindy sucked in a breath of floral air.

As Cindy smiled at the insect, one of her classmates emerged from the tiny storage closet at the end of the room. The bespectacled blonde clutching a potted ebony lily froze in place. "Angie?" Cindy asked while steadying her revolver.

Cindy was shocked to find not a lick of terror in Angie's eyes. They brightened instead as she asked, "Is Carl with you?"

"Carl? Why -" Cindy started to ask, but before she finished her mind jumped back to that letter in the cafeteria. Cindy lowered her pistol halfway to the floor and said, "I found your note." Shame clouded Angie's features as she slowly walked towards the flowing water. Cindy's gun stayed lowered but followed the girl. Angie let go of the orchid in her grasp and sat back into the dirt. "And I'm sorry…he's gone."

If Angie was crippled by the news, she didn't show it. She simply settled into the earth and turned away from Cindy, towards her garden. "Then I guess I'll be gone soon too." With a hint of malice, she added, "Like everyone else at The River."

Cindy stepped towards Angie, careful to avoid the dozens of plants strewn about. "All of you down here missed Willoughby's announcement. If more than one person is left at midnight, nobody wins The Prize." Cindy cast a glance back at the hallway and listened to the screams beyond. "We didn't have a choice."

"I used to think that," Angie stared up into Cindy's exhausted eyes. "I did a lot of things up there," she nodded towards the floors above, "to survive. I did so much that I wasn't even sure it was _me_ that was still carrying on." Angie turned back towards the stream and ran her fingers over the water; she watched the ripples grow and spread.

"But it's _me_ in here, looking at the flowers," she serenely whispered while staring at her garden. She let out a weary sigh. "I wanted one of us to win so that I could spend more time with Carl over the summer. Tell him how I feel; make up for a wasted year." Angie traced a finger through the dirt and whispered, "You probably think that's dumb."

"I don't," Cindy immediately answered. She lowered the Doublestrike to the floor. For a long moment, the two girls were motionless and simply listened to the water trickling down. At last, a fresh set of _Pops!_ careened down the halls. Shouts of terror followed, and Cindy stared back at the open door.

"I need to go," Cindy said. She clutched her throbbing forehead and mumbled, "I have to protect -"

"Jimmy?" Angie offered.

Cindy stayed silent and watched Angie's gaze creep towards her Doublestrike. The pistol was still aimed amidst the dirt and flowers, but Cindy felt it inching upwards.

Angie turned back towards the water, towards the flowers. "Do what you have to do, Cindy."

Cindy halted the pistol's advance and closed her eyes. "If it was earlier in the night, if there was more time…" she let her voice trail off.

"That's nice of you to say," Angie whispered. She swallowed hard and stared at her black tulip. "I'm just going to look at the flowers."

"That's good," Cindy's words caught in her throat and her eyes burned as she raised the Doublestrike and emptied a round into the back of Angie's head. The girl's back tightened, then her peaceful form crumpled into the river.

Cindy spun around and stumbled out of the classroom. She closed the door behind her, leaned against the wooden frame, and collapsed to her knees. The Doublestrike tumbled to the floor as she clasped her throbbing head. Her palms clenched into fists and she pounded them again and again against her fried brain as tears flowed from her eyes. Only encroaching footsteps halted the torrent of blows.

Cindy couldn't find the strength to raise her pistol as three children ran for their lives straight towards her. They approached in a row, each taller than the last. The largest boy farthest from Cindy fell from Jimmy's Hammershot aimed from down the corridor. As their older protector crumpled to the floor, the middle boy wrapped himself around the youngest girl. Libby's Centurion _cracked!_ and a mega dart bounced off the girl's shield.

The tiny unarmed child crawled backwards on all fours. She halted right in front of Cindy and begged for mercy as Jimmy and Libby approached. "Please," she begged, "Our dad's coming to visit this summer! Please!" her broken voice squeaked. James and Libby stopped their advance three feet before her and met Cindy's gaze. "I just want more time with him," she whimpered.

Cindy watched Jimmy and Libby's aims falter. Cindy knew from the way their guns trembled that they didn't have the heart to shoot this girl. Rising to her feet, Cindy tiredly did what she had done all night. Protect James.

Cindy scooped up her Doublestrike, cocked the hammer, and shot the pleading child down. Without a word, she tucked the empty pistol back in her sock. She headed back towards the staircase, past the flowing river.

"Cindy?" Libby eventually asked. "You were in that room for a while. Did you find anyone?"

Cindy looked around the empty riverbanks, at the spent darts linings its shores, and shook her head. "No," she answered while resuming the march towards the stairs. "It was just a ghost."


	4. When the Night is Over

Cindy jumped up the last steps of The Forbidden Stairs and aimed her Doublestrike all around. Harsh breaths blew a stray strand of blonde hair from her eyes; it latched onto her sweaty and bruised forehead. "Clear," she said while leaning against the wall and sliding down to the floor.

Jimmy and Libby came up right after, brandishing their Hammershot and Centurion. Jimmy knelt on one knee and kept watch down the hall as Libby shouldered her massive rifle.

Cindy leaned her head against the pistol in her hands and asked, "Where next?"

Libby and Jimmy shared a glance; they'd grown used to Cindy giving the orders. "Anywhere," Libby suggested. "As long as we never see The Graveyard again."

"Which one?" Cindy whispered.

Before her friends could answer, the PA system crackled to life.

"Attention survivors! This is Butch Pakovski," the bully's confident words raced through every hallway and room of Lindbergh. Cindy and Jimmy glared daggers at the unseen voice. "The clock's ticking down and we need to end this. So everyone meet at the gym in ten minutes. Or no one gets The Prize. Butch out."

Cindy rested her forehead back on her pistol's barrel. Voice tired and flat, she admitted, "That's surprisingly ingenious of him."

"What do you mean?" Libby asked.

"She means," Jimmy explained, 'that we don't have time to let the school thin out naturally. So we **have** to meet up and duel it out. Whoever figures that out first…"

Cindy kept her gaze on the floor while chiming in, "Gets to set the terms. And since this is Butch we're talking about…"

Libby realized the obvious and finished, "It's a trap."

Cindy nodded and tried to rise to her feet, but another wave of vertigo sent her crashing back to the floor. She slammed her eyes closed, waited for the nausea to pass, and opened her lids to see Jimmy's palm. "Thanks," she said as he hoisted her up.

Cindy looked at her ragged crew, who seemed surprisingly alert. Cindy was long past the edge, but she told herself to keep it together for just another half hour. After that, it would all be over. One way or another.

"If we're walking into a trap," she instructed while holstering the Doublestrike back in her sock, "we do it our way." Cindy unholstered her Falconfire, chambered a dart, and spun the grip towards Jim. "Hide that. It's smaller than your Hammershot."

Cindy turned to Libby next. "Still have that DoubleDown?" Libby pointed at her holstered double-barreled pistol. "Conceal it better," Cindy grumbled.

Cindy stared down the empty halls, towards the unseen gymnasium. "You all ready? There's no going back after this."

"Ready," Jimmy and Libby assured her.

Cindy looked around and scooped up an abandoned Snapfire pistol. She pulled one of the remaining spare darts from her pocket, loaded it in place, and yanked back the gun's plunger. "Then let's move."

* * *

Cindy had just rounded the last corner on their path when they saw two third-graders come around a bend across the hall. The five students raised their guns just as the gym doors between them snapped open.

"Freeze!" The single word was drawled out in a Southern accent from a lone fourth-grader who stepped into the hallway. The five kids froze in place, guns aimed on each other. "Whadda ya say y'all finish this the right a-way?" The boy asked while motioning the two crews towards him.

Cindy turned to James, who simply shrugged. The five kids marched towards Butch's lackey, who was clad in a navy blue polo and jeans. He obnoxiously chomped on a thick wad of bubblegum and peered over his sunglasses at the kids approaching him. He was armed with a Longshot sniper rifle in his hands and a foam machete holstered to his shoulder, but kept the long gun pointed at the ground.

"Well ain't you a sight," he whistled while looking the sweaty Cindy up and down. "Always worth a chuckle to see a girl holdin' her own out hee-ah."

"Yeah, we're all in hysterics," Cindy growled. She nodded past the boy at the gym beyond. "In there?"

"Oh yessiree," the boy agreed. "Say, you look mighty familiee-ar. You been in the gym before?"

"Don't think so," Cindy growled while trying to storm past the kid. He placed a hand on her shoulder and said, "Now don't tell me y'all sneakin' in without payin' admission."

"What's the price?" Cindy snapped.

The boy's tongue slid over his lips as he said, "There's quite a few things I'd accept from you. And the name's Tom, should you come lookin' for me aft-a this match. But Butch's got a more practical mindset." He motioned at a pile of guns near the gyms' double doors.

"Every gun you got," Tom twanged. "No more, no less."

"And if we refuse?" Libby piped up.

Tom flashed his palms in mock offense. "Whoa now, this ain't no prison. Y'all are free to turn yer horses right around. A' course, that means no'in 'ill be getting the prize. And everyone in this school will know who to thank."

Cindy drilled her eyes deep into Tom's shaded gaze while tossing her Snapfire to the floor. "We good?"

Tom kept chomping his teeth while shifting his eyes towards Libby and Jimmy. After a moment's hesitation, they gave up their cherished weapons. Tom turned towards the two third-graders and watched them relinquish their Demolishers.

"Well that wasn't so hard, was it?" Tom opined. "Head on in," he motioned the kids inside and locked his shades on Cindy's skeptical gaze. "And enjoy yerself, ya hear?"

Cindy gulped while leading the way inside the dimly lit gymnasium. Another wave of nausea lolled around her stomach; she dug her nails deep into her palm to focus on anything else. She and Jimmy's gaze drifted far to the left, near the bathrooms. Against that wall rested the fenced-in prisoner pen they'd barely escaped from a lifetime ago.

The duo cut tethers with the past and focused on the present. Nearly fifty kids were milling about the center center of the gym, which was flanked on both sides by fifteen-foot high wooden bleachers. Cindy nudged Jimmy's arm and nodded towards the nine boys standing in the top rows; four on one side and five on the other. Each wore a uniform identical to Tom's and clasped a scoped Longshot. She watched the Southern guard clamber up the steps and even out the perches.

"I saw them," Jimmy answered.

"Kinda hard to miss," Libby added.

As the trio settled in the middle of the crowd, the gym's lights suddenly flashed on. Cindy felt herself tumbling back to the library where they'd lost Carl, and it took everything she had to keep from whipping out her Doublestrike. She dug her nails back into her palm and bit her cheek as Butch strolled out from behind the bleachers.

No one batted an eye as the bully came into sight. He was clad in torn black leather dark as the night, sported a single-spiked shoulder pad and had his chestnut hair gelled into a mohawk. He moved across the linoleum with a cocky swagger and stopped before the microphone twenty feet before the crowd.

"Congratulations to all of you!" Butch smiled at the skeptical group before him. "We've all lasted more than most of the school. But there can only be one winner. Just ONE," Butch flashed a single finger, "can claim The Prize. And we are going to decide who that is in a fair way. Fair because," Butch basked in a lengthy pause, "you're all going to die at the same ti-"

"We know it's a trap!" A squeaky voice shouted from the middle of the crowd.

Butch blinked slowly and lowered his finger. "What?"

"We all know it's a trap, dude," Tristan explained.

"It was pretty obvious," Kevin chimed in. "You are kind of a dick."

Butch frowned at his soon-to-be victims and chortled, "So what if you know it's a trap? I have all your guns!" Butch kept laughing until half the kids yanked hidden pistols out from their socks, waistbands, and pockets. In a split second Butch was staring down twenty-five barrels.

"Okay, let's hang on!" Butch stretched out a palm as though it could ward off the darts. He motioned his other hand at the bleachers and the ten snipers aiming down scopes at the huddled kids. "You shoot me, and you're all dead!"

"You forgot one thing!" Cindy shouted while cocking her hammer. "We're out of time anyway." She pulled her trigger, and the spiraling dart launched the entire gym into chaos.

Before Butch's body hit the floor or she could recock her hammer, ten crisply oiled _pops!_ erupted from the bleacher's steps. Sniper darts slammed into necks and temples, sending a fifth of the crowd crashing to the floor. The remaining forty students fired back, ran in all directions, or turned on each other.

"Stick toge…watch out!" Cindy screamed while shoving Jimmy out of the way of a charging third-grader swinging a Vantage Sword. Cindy twisted herself under the swinging blade and slammed her heel into the boy's shin. He crashed to the floor, and Libby emptied a DoubleDown barrel into his skull.

Cindy reached out to Jimmy, but a flurry of automatic fire sent both kids reeling. "Jim!" Cindy screamed as the darts chased after her as she rolled further and further away. She jumped to her feet behind a tall fifth-grader, who did her the unwitting honor of absorbing the rounds.

Cindy disappeared into the dueling crowd, farther and farther away from her friends. She tried to catch sight of James or Libby, but they were lost amidst the firing guns and swinging blades. She realized her only hope was to reach the far-away bleachers and get a good look at the battlefield from above.

Every bit of rage of that Cindy had swallowed down over the course of that night came bubbling up. She realized that every step of their journey had come to this. Every kid she'd betrayed, every friend she'd let die, every tear she'd shed and bit of her soul that she'd let chip away was for this. It was to survive the next fifteen minutes and make all her suffering mean something.

Cindy plucked the last spare darts from her pocket and slid them into her Doublestrike's empty barrel. She cocked the hammer and let her first target choose her. A wild-eyed brunette barreled straight towards her, yanking back the priming lever of a Jolt pistol.

Cindy stormed forward and emptied a round into the girl's wrist. She reflexively dropped the gun, which Cindy snatched from midair. She cocked her Doublestrike's hammer, swiveled her pair of guns left and right, and shot down two more kids.

Next up was a lanky fifth-grader swinging a Klaw Hatchet. A kick to the wrist sent the weapon flying into his neck; Cindy tossed her guns aside and pounced on the preteen. She shoved the blade harder against his throat, then felt time freeze as the unmistakable sound of a plunger being cocked breached her ears.

Cindy ducked underneath the incoming dart and swung the hatchet behind her. It caught her victim in the chest, and Cindy kicked the dead boy away.

A primal scream erupted from Cindy's next victim as she slashed a machete towards the blonde. Vortex simply parried the blow with her hatchet; the axe went flying across the gym. Cindy didn't spare a glance at her attacker, she simply jabbed her elbow into the girl's windpipe. As her victim clutched her crushed airway, Cindy ripped the machete from her hands and shoved it into her chest.

The foam blade snapped in half as Cindy and the girl collapsed onto the floor. A swift kick to the ribs sent Cindy tumbling onto her back, and she looked up as Oleander aimed a Hammershot at her skull. She swung her neck to the right and heard the dart bounce off the floor; Oleander roared and slammed his foot down onto her left wrist.

Cindy screamed in agony and swung her right foot straight up between his legs. Oleander dropped his revolver, and Cindy scooped it off the ground. She leveled the gun's last bullet with Oleander's right eye. As Oleander crashed to the floor, she tried to push herself off the ground but her wrist gave out. She collapsed to the linoleum just as a sniper's dart whizzed by where her head had just been.

Cindy rolled underneath the nearby bleachers and sucked in two deep breaths. She stared up between the wooden seats and watched as footsteps bounded up past her. She dropped the Hammershot, shot her right hand up, and grasped onto a bony ankle. She pulled down hard and heard her victim's nose smash into the bleachers. Blood dripped down on her as an unseen sniper loosed a dart at its source; the boy slid painfully down the stairs and crashed onto the floor.

As the sniper cycled his bolt, Cindy pulled herself up between the seats. She snatched up a blood-spattered Firefly pistol and swung it up at the sniper above her. Her target was a smirking Tom, halfway through chambering his next round. Cindy pulled the Firefly's trigger, but its electric motor whimpered and died.

Cindy stared in disbelief at the gun before chucking it at Tom's head. The boy ducked underneath the missile and sent his dart flying wide. Cindy took this chance to storm up the steps and slam into the boy. Her tackle sent his sunglasses flying off as he slammed against the wall behind him. Only a last second swipe at the stairs kept him from falling to the floor. He struggled to maintain his grip as Cindy snatched the machete from his shoulder holster. His grey eyes widened in terror as Cindy slammed the blade onto his skull, sending him crashing to the floor.

Cindy tossed the knife aside, scooped up his Longshot, and chambered the last remaining round. She knelt down on one knee, aimed down below, and realized that there were only five other people still in play.

Standing amidst the dozens of corpses, James and Libby were still fighting on. Jimmy was grappling with a fourth-grade boy over an orange rail blade. Ten feet away, Libby was preparing to fire the last round in her DoubleDown at a girl down on her knees.

James was losing his grip on the knife, and Libby didn't see the boy behind her raising his Triad pistol.

There was no time to choose, simple instinct homed her rifle in on a target.

"Libby!" Cindy screamed while shooting the fourth-grader as he yanked the knife away from Jimmy.

Libby fired her pistol into the girl, then spun around to find a dart slamming into her gut.

Cindy furiously cycled the bolt, but no rounds remained. Jimmy picked up the slack and launched himself at Libby's attacker. He slammed the knife into the boy's chest before he could prepare another shot.

Cindy dropped her sniper rifle and dashed down the steps. She scooped up a tiny blue Reflex pistol and slid to a stop besides Libby's body. "Libs," Cindy clasped a bloody hand over her friend's heart.

"It's alright," Libby whispered while staring up at the ceiling. She blinked slow, and mumbled, "We still won." She clasped Cindy's hand, squeezed it hard, and rose to her feet. "Come on, everybody," she said as all the other downed kids slowly rose up. "Let them finish this."

Jimmy stared at his wrist and realized less than ten minutes remained. He and Cindy watched the scores of people trudge out of the gym. When it was just the two of them remaining, they faced each other.

"We did it," Cindy mumbled in disbelief. "We actually won."

"Not we," Jimmy offered Cindy a mournful smile. "Butch was right about one thing. There's only one victor."

Unlike back in the vents, neither child lifted their weapons an inch.

"There's gotta," Cindy swallowed hard, "there's gotta be a way. Some loophole. I mean you're a genius! We can figure this out. We can -"

"Cind," Jimmy protested, "it's okay. We both know who the real winner is."

Cindy stared down at the floor as James placed a palm on her shoulder. "I may be a genius, but I wouldn't have lasted two hours tonight without you. You saved me at the party. You kept us together in Butch's prison. You always did what needed to be done; what I couldn't. The Prize is yours."

Cindy sniffled and looked into Jimmy's kind eyes. He dropped his knife to the ground, and Cindy squeezed her pistol tight. She sucked in a shaky breath and tried to raise the gun, but it wouldn't budge.

"I don't think I can shoot you," she cried.

Jimmy grabbed her wrist and started to pull the weapon up, but a deep voice from across the gym stopped him.

"You won't have to," Ike Burke said. Then a round leapt from his Slingfire and spiraled into James' gut.

"NO!" Cindy screamed as Ike yanked the grey lever forward and chambered another round. James clutched his abdomen and fell to the ground. Cindy started to swing her pistol towards Ike, but he already had his rifle trained on her heart.

"No's right!" Ike roared while stepping towards his target. "You're going to drop the pistol NOW!"

"That doesn't count!" Cindy shrieked. "I took you out!"

"Yeah, you would've," Ike said while lifting up his shirt. A thick black vest peeked out from beneath the fabric. "If you'd aimed for the head."

"A Nerfproof vest?" Cindy scoffed. "Are you serious?"

"Well it's designed to take bullets," Ike snapped back. "But I figure it'll stop foam. Now drop the pistol!"

Cindy measured her options, but Ike's shout halted her thoughts. "Don't do that!" He instructed. "Don't think you can beat my draw or jump out of the way. I'm a good enough shot to hit you, and you know it."

Cindy actually thought the odds were closer to fifty-fifty, but she wasn't yet willing to roll the dice. She stayed motionless and cast a solemn glance at Jimmy's collapsed form. "Where the hell did you even get that?" Cindy locked her gaze back on Ike's padded chest. "Not even Willoughby would bring a bulletproof vest to school."

Ike scoffed. "You still don't get it, do you, Vortex? How do you think Willoughby got half these guns? How do you think he came up with the idea for this game? Yeah, that's right," Ike grinned as Cindy's jaw dropped in understanding. "This was all my idea."

Cindy wanted to grab her throbbing temple, but she didn't doubt that Ike would open fire at the slightest motion. "You…you did this?"

"I did," Ike agreed. "All I wanted was a summer without reading and book reports. And you had to ruin it."

"Ruin it?" Cindy scoffed. "Are you seriously going to act like I'm the villain here?"

"Aren't you?" Ike shot back. "I didn't betray someone in the middle of a truce. I didn't wipe out a peaceful settlement. I didn't execute a broken-hearted girl! Or someone who just wanted to spend time with their dad!"

"But you would've!" Cindy screamed back. "Wouldn't you? Or are you saying you went through all this effort just to hand over The Prize?"

Ike licked his lips and shook his head. "I gave everyone a fair shot. I played with honor."

"Honor," Cindy chuckled. "Was it honorable to know where all the guns were kept? Or how about being the only kid with armor?"

"I had a reason for this," Ike jabbed the barrel towards Cindy. "I found Sandy, Cindy. I found her address! I was going to visit her this summer. I don't have time for summer reading with her out there! How could -"

"No one cares about Sandy, Ike!" Cindy roared. "We all had reasons to win this game!"

"I did all this for the person I love!"

"So did I!" Cindy shot back.

Silence filled the gym as Ike and Cindy stared each other down; as James lay motionless on the ground realizing the weight behind Cindy's words.

"I won this," Ike shook his head and jammed his Slingfire's stock against his shoulder. He aimed down the barrel at Cindy, whose gun was still halfway towards the ground. "I need this. I'm getting it."

"You don't deserve it," Cindy spat with a shake of her head.

"And you do?" Ike asked.

Cindy stared down at herself, at the pistol in her hands. She glanced around the gymnasium, at the spatters of blood and tears. She thought back to The River, back to Angie.

"Well?" Ike asked.

"No," Cindy said while dropping her gun. "I don't." She lifted her fiery eyes towards Ike's mirrored pupils and said, "But you don't either."

"I had a reason," Ike tried to explain.

"We all did," Cindy shot back. "We're all the heroes in our own stories and the villains in others'. But look around, Ike. Look at this place," she motioned at the gym, and no dart interrupted her movements. Ike risked a sideways glance at the bleachers, at the bloodstains Cindy had left.

Cindy took a shaky breath, closed her eyes against another pang of nausea, and whimpered, "No one here won tonight."

"So what do you want me to do about it?" Ike asked.

"What you know's right," Cindy said. "What it took me until now to realize. The only way for any of us here to win is to admit The Prize is tainted. And to let it go."

Ike huffed and shook his head. "Do you really think that after everything I've been through, I'll just throw The Prize away?"

"Do you really think," Cindy asked, "that Sandy would be proud to know what happened here tonight?"

Ike's gun trembled as he contemplated her query. "Even if I agreed with you," he shakily began, "I couldn't put the gun down. As soon as I did, you'd pick up that pistol and shoot me."

"I wouldn't," Cindy promised.

"You did!" Ike shot back.

Cindy let out a shaky sigh and admitted, "I did. But I swear, I'm not trying to trick you. I'm trying to save you. I'm trying to save us."

A sharp _beep_ came from Ike's pocket. "One minute left," Ike explained. "This is it, Vortex." He danced his fingers along the Slingfire's grip.

Cindy kept her hands raised as she said, "Do what you have to do, Ike." Ike's index finger pressed harder on the trigger, and Cindy added, "But believe me when I say that you've gotta live with it."

Boy and girl stared each other down as the seconds ticked away. At last, just before midnight, Ike shouted, "Screw it!"

He danced his fingers one more time along the grip before he lowered the gun.

Cindy breathed a sign of relief, stared down at the pistol on the floor, and kicked it aside.

Ike and Cindy stared at each other until another _beep_ blared from Ike's pocket. He pulled out his cellphone and stared at the time. "Midnight," he huffed in disbelief. He stared around the empty gym, at the hundreds of spent darts, and managed a tired chuckle. "It's over."

Cindy only had the strength to nod as the world swam around her once more.

"Good game, Vortex." Cindy couldn't manage a word back, so he turned around and waved over his shoulder. "I'll see you at the Candy Bar."

Cindy watched the boy leave, then stared down at James. She swallowed hard and felt her stomach swirl around. "Game's over," she croaked while gently kicking the boy's leg. She held out her hand as he opened his eyes, and she hoisted the genius to his feet.

"About what you said," Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck. "I…"

But Cindy had already began the trek toward's gym to the double doors. With shuffling feet and dead eyes, she shambled down the halls back to The Forbidden Stairs. She assumed that James was trudging behind her, but she couldn't muster the energy to crane her neck or ask if he was there. So she simply moved one foot in front of the other.

She waded through the shallow waters of the basement, forded through The River, and ignored the darts lining its shores. Her journey ended at Angie's garden, and she flung open the door half-expecting the girl to still be there.

She wasn't. The room was silent save for the gentle flow of water down the wall. She crossed the hilly earth, taking care not to crush any of the flowers. She took a seat beside the swirling stream and set her gaze on a beautiful purple iris, lit only by the moonlight above.

She had no idea how long she'd sat there before she felt James take a seat beside her. He sidled closer to her, and after countless more moments she felt his warm arm warp around her shoulder.

"Cind?" he asked at last. "Do you want to head home?"

"Not yet," she whispered.

"Whatever you want," he gently promised.

Cindy rested her head on his shoulder and continued watching the flowers. Her gaze didn't shift an inch until sleep at least took hold, and all of her terrors were replaced by peaceful dreams.


	5. Ends of the Earth

Inside the mercifully air-conditioned Candy Bar, Sam rested both elbows on the smudged and stained main countertop. He shot a venomous and unwavering stare across the restaurant at the three booths of children; sixteen equally rancorous glares bounced back at him.

"This is unbelievable," Nick groaned while leaning back in his seat. He glanced around his own semi-circular booth, then the two others beside him. All of the nearby kids were from Ms. Fowl's class, save for Betty Quinlan smooshed against his right hip.

"We all came on time," Ike agreed from Nick's left.

"They have to make everything about them," Rose complained from the booth to Nick's right.

The multitude of no-longer fifth graders mumbled in agreement as Sam shouted, "You finally ready, yeah?"

"Let's just order," Betty groaned while rubbing her temple. "Mama needs coffee."

"Five more minutes," Angie pleaded.

"We've given them ten!" Tristan shouted back.

"We'll order for them if that shuts everyone up!" Ike snapped. He locked his mirrored sunglasses onto Sam and said, "Twenty-one black coffees and double chocolate malts."

Sam raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Ain't the coffee a bad idea for you kids? And it's a little early for a double malt."

"Not today!" A furious chorus roared back.

* * *

Outside, a blanket of clouds nearly eclipsed the searing sun. The welcome respite from an early summer's heat granted the quintet of children an extra spring in their step.

"Finally!" Sheen shrieked while regaining some of his usual pizzazz. Like Carl, his skin was a nearly diffuse purple. Patchy indentations lined his body; a painful reminder from scores of baby teeth and hacking machetes. Though the physical scars would long remain, the mental ones were vanquished by the looming Candy Bar. "It's sugar time!"

"They don't look happy," Carl motioned at the Candy Bar's windows and their glowering peers behind them.

"We are late," Cindy mumbled as her eyes struggled to maneuver out of their deep dark bags and follow Carl's gesture.

"Fashionably so," Libby corrected.

Jimmy hesitated a few feet from the doors and asked, "Hey guys? Can you give me and Cindy a moment?"

Libby shot Cindy a knowing smirk before answering, "Sure." She corralled Carl and Sheen inside, and soon Cindy was left alone with James.

 _Not now_ , Cindy silently begged. She lacked the energy to do anything but stay motionless and watch the genius rub the back of his neck.

"About last night," he began at last. "About what you said?"

A surge of adrenaline gave Cindy the strength to interrupt. "Neutron," she pleaded, "I was past the edge of my rope. I barely even remember saying it. So could you please just forget it too?"

Jimmy's face fell, and for a moment the two friends stood in silence. Eventually, he asked, "Have you thought about what middle school's going to be like?"

Cindy was taken aback by the non-sequitur, but it was an infinitely more tolerable line of questioning. "Of course. Why?"

"It's just, elementary school involved us flying across the galaxy, fighting a dozen different aliens, turning into superheroes, and destroying the school in a Nerf war." Jimmy shook his head in amusement and Cindy offered a tickled huff. "So what the heck is middle school going to be like?"

"I don't know," Cindy sincerely answered. "But I'm sure it will be equally as stupid and ridiculous."

Jimmy nodded, and Cindy saw everything abruptly change in those cerulean eyes of his. Terror took hold in a flash, but a firm gulp seemed to swallow it away. "That's the thing, Cindy. I was thinking about all of this while you were sleeping there by The River. And I realized that if we're going to go through more stuff like last night, like this past year…I don't want to do it alone." As Cindy felt an all-too familiar pang of nausea rise in her stomach, Jimmy added, "I don't want to forget what you said last night."

Cindy stared down at the ground. "You're tired," she tried to give him an excuse to repudiate his words.

"That's true."

"You're confused," Cindy offered.

"That's not," Jimmy assured her. After a moment, he seemed to understand what was holding her back. It was her and her alone who had taken the risk of baring her love. "If it makes it easier, I know I didn't do nearly as much as you last night. But what I managed? It was also for the person I love."

Jimmy held out his palm. She reached her own hand out, but froze an inch apart. "We don't know how to do this," she whispered. "How to be more than friends."

Jimmy considered that, then rebutted, "I don't think any two people do, before they take the plunge. There was a time we didn't know how to even be friends." Cindy weighed the magnitude of this decision as Jimmy added, "You had me grab your hand once, right outside this restaurant. That time it was you asking me to take a leap of faith."

After one last deep breath, Cindy surmised there was only choice for her to make. "Well," Cindy said while clasping his palm, "I am a sucker for artistic symmetry." She felt that familiar shudder shoot up her arm and straight into her heart. She watched a familiar quiver shoot up Jame's spine, and the two melted as they squeezed each other's hands.

"Ready for this?" Jimmy asked as he led her towards the restaurant's entrance.

Cindy stared at their palms and realized Jimmy had no intent of hiding their decision. "Always," she assured him. She pushed open the double doors and led the way in. They glided past the hostess stand and saw eighteen shocked faces staring at them.

"All hail the conquering heroes," Ike quipped.

"Alright, guess that calls it," Nick eagerly rubbed his hands together. "Anybody else have graduation day?"

Cindy cocked her head as Butch and Yentl's hands shot up; everyone else pulled out crumpled five-dollar bills. Money was just about to exchange hands when Bolbi screamed, "Wait! Graduation already past!"

Jimmy raised his free arm and asked, "What's going on?"

All ignored him except for the short-changed Yentl and Butch. Nick chimed in, "Guess you're right. Did anyone have the day after graduation?"

"Thats me!" Carl ecstatically screamed while jumping out of his seat at the edge of the booth. "I actually won something! My mom's going to be so pro-"

"Excuse me!" Cindy snapped. "What the heck are you dunderheads talking about?'

"We bet on you two getting together," Ike slowly enunciated. "Need us to feed you two baby birds anything else?"

Cindy shook her head in disgust. "You actually bet on this, Carl?"

"And accurately so?" Jimmy chimed in.

"Hey," Carl thumbed through his new-found wealth. "I calls 'em as I sees 'em."

Cindy shoved herself and Jimmy against between Carl and Libby. "That's a messed up thing to gamble about."

Nick handed Carl a crisp green bill and quipped, "Not like you guys' flirting ever destroyed the town or anything."

"Technically," Jimmy countered, "I'd argue that at least half of our escapades didn't involve…er…romantic aspects at all."

"Yeah!" Sheen jabbed a finger towards the sky. "I always thought the first third of the year was the best! It was zanier. The last third was too sappy. Each adventure felt like it took twice as long!"

As Carl nervously shifted his eyes around, Sam and a waiter carried over four enormous circular trays. The two men passed around twenty-one cups of steaming coffee and icy chocolate malts.

"Sugar!" Sheen shrieked while sucking a thick drag through his straw.

"Caffeine," Betty purred while taking a slow sip from the scalding mug.

"Guys, wait!" Courtney shouted. "Shouldn't we do a toast or something?"

The group grumbled, and Nick raised his coffee high above while clearing his throat. "Well, here's to all of us getting out of Lindbergh alive."

Oleander ran a few trembling fingers over his new eyepatch and mumbled, "Some of us in more pieces than others," while glaring at Cindy.

Libby raised her cup and said to the group, "And here's to the weeks of therapy we're going to need."

"Here, here," the rest of the class agreed while clinking cups and testing their drinks.

Brittany blew the steam away from her mug and asked, "Willoughby's totally gotta be punished, right? I mean he deserves it!"

Everyone mumbled their agreement, which caused Ike to look around the group. "Do you guys seriously not know where your parents are right now?"

"Um, at work?" Jimmy offered.

Ike shook his head and motioned at the large black duffel bag lying under the table at his feet. "I stopped by Lindbergh on the way here to grab my guns. I talked to your dad; turns out the adults are using them."

"Huh?" Jimmy asked.

* * *

Across town, nearly five hundred parents milled about the center of Lindbergh Elementary's gymnasium. The sickening copper-like smell of blood filled the hall; more than a handful of parents furiously inspected the red stains lining the bleachers and floor. Most parents intermittently pointed and snarled at Willoughby, who was doing his best to camouflage his beige suit with the wooden bleachers.

"Alright, everyone!" Hugh Neutron said while approaching the microphone Butch had utilized eleven hours before. The throng of dialogue gradually simmered, so Hugh went on, "Thank you all for attending this emergency meeting of the PTA! I'd explain why we're here, but I think we all know."

Sasha Vortex stepped in front of the crowd thrust a finger towards the ceiling. "My daughter Cynthia didn't even make it home last night! All because that abysmal oaf," she thrust her finger towards Willoughby, who shrunk deeper into the bleachers, "couldn't keep his students from destroying the school."

Mrs. Wheezer anxiously asked Sasha, "Did you find Cindy?"

Mrs. Vortex blinked slowly and asked, "What do you mean?"

Hugh tapped on the microphone, sending all eyes back his way. "We all have a lot to blame Principal Willoughby for, but I've figured out a way to make things right." Hundreds of nods supported any idea of vengeance. "We're going to give him a taste of his own medicine. Today, we're all going to have a Nerf fight and take Willoughby out! We seize the power and control this school ourselves!" Hugh offered a wide smile and shouted, "Who wants to topple a kakistocracy!"

"Hugh!" Judy snapped, "are you sure a Nerf fight is a good idea? It sounds kind of…"

"Stupid," an unseen voice from the center of the crowd shouted.

"Now hold on, Sugar Booger," Hugh protested. "As PTA president, I-"

"Hugh," Judy interrupted, "winning a pie eating contest doesn't make you president."

"It wasn't even a contest!" another parent screamed. "He just ate all our pies at the bake sale!"

"Alright, settle down" Hugh told the crowd. "If nobody wants to do this, then I guess I'll just take the prize myself and we can go home."

"Wait, what prize?" Mr. Wheezer asked.

"The last person standing," Hugh spoke back into the microphone, "gets a week off work!"

The crowd fell silent, and Judy asked, "Does that include housework?"

"You bet it does!" Hugh promised. He swung towards Willoughby and asked, "Isn't that right?"

"What?" Willoughby screeched. "We never even talked about any of this. The school board's not going to pay for that. Hello! We couldn't even get a trip to the planetarium approved!"

"Well who are you going to believe?" Hugh leaned into the microphone. "Me or this autocrat? Now everyone better grab a gun, because the game begins…"

Everyone swiveled around and scooped up any stray pistols and darts they could find. Brittany's mother hauled out an enormous golden gong behind Hugh and handed him a beautifully engraved wooden striker.

"NOW!" Hugh screamed while blasting the gong with all his strength. As the eery metallic hum reverberated throughout the gym, Lindbergh descended back into chaos.

* * *

Back in the Candy Bar, the kids shook their heads at the idea of their parents duking it out in Lindbergh's halls. "But even if Willoughby does get hit in the eye a dozen more times," Brittany over-enunciated while swirling her straw, "I still think it's stupid that nobody won The Prize."

Ike fidgeted his fingers and nodded at Cindy. "I still think you made the right call. But Brittany's right. Everything we went through seems pointless without one of us winning The Prize."

As the group murmured their assent, Cindy watched her twenty classmates easily agreeing with each other. She stared down at her malt and quietly said, "Maybe this is the way it was supposed to be."

Jim, the only one to hear her, asked, "What do you mean?"

The group fell quiet as Cindy glanced up from her drink. "It's just, maybe The Prize was never supposed to be getting out of summer reading. Maybe," her eyes radiated with hope and understanding, "The Prize was supposed to be all of us sitting here, drinking a malt, together."

Cindy's newly widened lids gave her plenty of time to watch crumpled up straw wrappers bombard her.

"Boo!"

"Too clichéd!"

"That's a C-minus move, right there!"

Betty raised her palms and said, "Now hang on!" Sheen unleashed one more wrapper at a murderous Cindy, then Betty protested, "Maybe she's right. I mean think about it. What other group of twenty fifth-graders would be at each other's throats one night and sharing a malt the next?"

"We've all been through a heck of a lot this year," Nick chimed in. "And it's like Neutron and I realized yesterday," he raised a malt towards his newest friend, "we're all going to be awfully alone in sixth grade if we don't stick together."

The gang fell quiet and finally thought about what it truly meant to leave Lindbergh's familiar walls behind. They were about to embark on a new three year-journey; that was an awful long way to go it alone.

Carl blew his nose and blasted his friends out of their thoughts. "I love you guys," he admitted.

"And I love you," Angie wheezed while grasping across the table.

"Um," Libby swatted Angie's thrashing hand away, "New toast. To surviving Lindbergh. Together."

Nick lifted his own glass. "To surviving middle school. Together."

Cindy grinned and thrust her own drink high. "To being here right now. Together!"

"Together!" The kids cried out before slamming their frosty mugs. Stray drops of melting ice cream splattered everywhere, and the kids cheered as Sam shot them a furious glare. The kids leaned back in their seats, took twenty-one deep drags, and settled in for a long afternoon.

* * *

Many hours later, the Candy Bar's double doors burst open from the weight of twenty-one satiated preteens. The gaggle of groaning, laughing, and smiling kids strode into the parking lot just in time to see a column of black smoke waft into the sky across town.

The kids froze and stared in the direction of Lindbergh. Betty was the first to break the silence.

"Parents," she solemnly mused. "Have to ruin everything."

"Not our problem," Cindy said while grabbing Jimmy's hand and walking towards the hovercar. Nick's anxious voice froze her in place.

"I kind of feel like we should go help 'em."

Cindy was grateful that Betty spoke up before she could. "You've got to be kidding me," the brunette snapped. "You actually want to go back to a Nerf war? I nearly lost my mind last night!"

"Same," Cindy immediately agreed.

Nick shrugged. "I still think you all took it too seriously. I had fun." He hesitated, then motioned at the smoke. "And our parents are in a burning building."

"I'll go," Ike chimed in while dropping his duffel bag to the ground. He unzipped the pack and handed Nick an Alphastrike; half the kids cringed as they caught sight of the blaster.

"You can count me out!" Brittany waved away a Zombie Strike Crossfire. The personification of a Valley Girl accent shouted, "I'm gonna sit by the pool and sip margarita mix! Everyone who's not a Nerf Nerd's invited!"

"Sounds good to me," Libby agreed.

"Well," Courtney cocked her head at the crossbow in Ike's grasp before tentatively accepting the weapon. "I was going to edit all the videos and interviews I got from last night into a piece for the local news, but I guess I could use some more footage."

"I'm in too," Rose agreed while accepting a battery-powered Modulus. "I still feel like I got screwed over last night."

"Oh yeah," Oleander huffed while motioning at his eyepatch, "you got screwed over."

"Oh don't be such a baby!" Emily snapped. "This is why I won't move in with you!"

"We're eleven!" Oleander protested.

"We are not rehashing this fight!" Emily screeched. "Not here!"

"Okay, you can have the biggest gun if you shut up!" Ike snipped while handing Emily his modded Centurion. He glanced around the crowd and asked, "Anyone else in for a fight? Or do you all just want to splash around the kiddy pool like babies?'

Only Kevin and Yentl accepted guns from Ike, the remaining kids happily muttered, "Babies."

As the seven warriors loaded their clips, pumped their handles, and cycled their bolts, the other fourteen kids prepared to head over to Brittany's. The two groups stared at each other before setting off.

"Well, guess we're parting ways," Nike told Betty.

"For tonight," Betty agreed. She stared at her crew and slowly ventured, "But maybe we could meet up for lunch tomorrow? You all can tell us what went down at Lindbergh."

Nick grinned. "I'm game. As long as it lasts a little less than," he pulled out his cellphone and stared at its clock. Eyes bugging out, he huffed, "Six hours! Dang. Day got away from us."

The kids all murmured their agreement. "Well," Cindy said while motioning at the mile-away fire. "Good luck, guys. You'll need it, because we are not coming in to save you."

"That's alright," Ike assured her. "I work best under pressure. Let's roll out!"

The two groups of friends shared nods, waves, and goodbyes before spinning around. As the sun started its steady descent towards the horizon and became obscured by the billowing smoke, the kids parted ways with the comforting knowledge that it wouldn't be long before they met again.

* * *

 **Author's Note: **

**Once again, for possibly but not certainly the last time, I have finished a Jimmy Neutron fanfic. I want to thank all the people who made this possible in some for or another, as well as those who made this experience all the more delightful.**

 **First up is my no-longer girlfriend and now-fiancé Louise. Even as I'm barreling through my twenties and spending way too many hours at work, she didn't once complain when I spent a great deal of my precious free time on this story instead of with her. Love you, Honeybear.**

 **Next up is Ed. Thirteen years ago El Chupacabra (a.k.a. Farley Drexel) wrote some incredible Jimmy Neutron fanfics and inspired me to pen my own. If you'd told me back then that not only would we meet and become writing partners, but that he'd be the best man at my upcoming wedding? I would have called you crazy. Thanks for all your friendship, editing notes, and writing advice.**

 **Man, I'm just starting to realize that maybe I could have wrapped up this story a little bit better. But it's done now, and nothing can change that. This isn't a movie, there can't be any mid- or post-credits sequences.**

 **Acosta Perez Jose Ramiro is up next. You've been one of my oldest and most faithful reviewers. Thanks for your constant stream of comments and kind words. I've tried my best to keep the good writing.**

* * *

Inside the smoke-filled halls of Lindbergh Elementary, the seven crouching children could barely focus on sticking in a stellate formation. Sensory overload all but crippled them. Acrid smoke burnt their nostrils; blinding and deafening fire alarms limited their vison. The wet bandanas tied over their mouths enabled them to breathe, but the constant dripping moisture kept any semblance of comfort from settling over their searing skin.

"Court! Rose!" Nick hoarsely barked while pointing to two banks of lockers lining either side of the halls. The two girls each took a row and unleashed a stream of white foam from their fire extinguishers. They swept at the base of the fires, and soon the orange flames withered and died.

"Nearly empty!" Rose cried while setting her canister down.

"I'm out!" Courtney shouted while tossing her extinguisher to the floor. The two girls pulled out their Disruptor revolvers and got back in formation.

"So," Ike croaked while peeking his lips over the bandana. "This is going swimmingly."

The distant _Pop!_ of a blaster obviated any further quips. The sound sent seven pairs of hands tightening around their weapons. The kids scanned the halls, but there was no motion to be seen. A few more blasts could be heard, followed by the _revving_ of a chainsaw and a bloodcurdling scream.

"Guess the sequel's a bit grittier," Kevin nervously joked.

"Targets!" Yentl's terrified cry echoed as she thrust a finger down the hall. She pointed out a trio of snarling German Shepherds charging around the corner and barreling towards the group.

The seven kids dropped to one knee and aimed their rifles as the snapping canine sent sprays of rabid foam in all directions. A stream of darts spiraled towards the creatures and bounced off their frenzied faces.

Yentl charged forward and unleashed her own primal roar while dropping her gun. She slid to a stop right before the first beast and scooped up Rose's discarded extinguisher. She slammed the canister into the flank of the dog and sent it flying into the lockers. As the second mutt stormed into her sights, she squeezed the lever and sent the final sprays of foam into its terrified face. A shot from Ike's modded Sledgefire shotgun range left deep bruises in the wailing creature's skull. It skulked off after its injured pack member just as the last beast wrapped powerful jaws around the extinguisher.

"New shell!" Ike roared as he broke open the shotgun's barrel and tossed the empty shell out. Nick tossed him a new plastic trio of darts, and Ike slammed the rounds in as Rose and Emily helped Yentl shove dog onto the ground and pin the extinguisher against its throat.

Ike leveled the shotgun against the creature's temple and primed the trigger. An agonized scream bounced off the kids' eardrums as the shepherd bounded down the hall after its wounded comrades.

"Thanks," Yentl said while dropping the dented extinguisher to the ground. It barely had time to clatter and roll a foot before a deranged laugh poured from the ceiling and reverberated all around.

"Formation!" Nick roared as the group formed a pronged circle, guns leveled all around. "Guns ready!"

"I was lost, my wife is gone," the raspy voice swam amidst the smoke and flames. "For her I try and carry on!"

"Nick!" Courtney cried.

"Hold fire," Nick danced his fingers along his Alphastrike's grip.

"Who could it be that serves death today?"

"Hang on!" Nick nervously told his group. A ceiling tile suddenly dropped between the group; a lanky and devious form fell immediately thereafter. The kids swung around just in time to each feel a warm pastry slamming into their face.

Sprinkles scraped their corneas and frosting clouded their vision as Hugh Neutron rose tall and traded his box of donuts for twin Firefly pistols. "Donut Boy is here to play!"

* * *

 **Next on the thank you list is good old jcforever19. She's an incredibly talented writer and I really enjoyed all the reviews we traded as well as the conversations we've had. Best of luck with grad school, and I can't wait to ready any more of your new work; either JN or original.**

 **Linklover77, I still miss those days where you, me, and Farley Drexel would spend all our time working on a season four plan for Jimmy Neutron. That was one of the best years of my life, and I wish you the best in all your future endeavors. As long as they involve writing, that is. You're too talented for them not to.**

 **Jack Coffison, I really appreciated all the incredible reviews you left for The Old Spinster. Those were such a surprise and made my week. I am trying to go through some of your Gravity Falls stuff and hope that one day you get the chance to let me know what you think of this insane fic.**

 **As an aside, I offer a little bit of trivia to the fans. I'll let you know that this story directly and canonically connect with only one of my previous stories. That fic is _Last Call._ I always love any story that puts Jimmy and Nick together, so that was one of my favorites to write. Since it took place at fifth grade graduation and I knew this story needed to as well, it seemed only right that the two be connected. I put a couple of hints about that in this fic, but I just wanted to confirm it.**

 **I wish I could play around with connecting this fic more with the vast, somewhat intertwined universe of Jimmy Neutron stories I've created, but I'm not Stan Lee and this isn't a Marvel film. So I guess I can't.**

* * *

Veronica Wolf tucked a frazzled bundle of auburn hair from her eyes and tucked it behind a sweaty ear. Grumbling to herself, she swirled a rocks glass around her right palm and watched the brown liquid coat its sides.

"Stupid kids," she mumbled while taking a searing yet piquant sip. Her other hand tapped a dying pen against the open notebook in front of her.

"Knock knock," the dual words came in tune with Ms. Wolf peeking around Veronica's open classroom door.

Veronica groaned as she caught sight of the neatly coiled grey hair perched atop Ms. Creek's kind face. "What do you want, Angela? And you think just because you're an English teacher you can throw onomatopoeias around all day? How uppity can you be?"

"What?" Ms. Creek asked. "I was just letting you know that we're all heading out for some fun. I figured we should invite you along." Angela raised an eyebrow at the notebook lying before Veronica. "It's not like you to work during summer vacation."

"It just started! And not that it's any business of yours, but I'm getting my lesson plans done now so I can have Veronica nights all summer." Ms. Wolf threw her pen onto the ground and crushed it beneath her heel. "But I can't figure out where I'm going to get the hearts for this anatomy project."

"Knock knock," came another jovial voice from the hall.

"Just knock on the door!" Veronica screamed, but pulled back as Mr. Helper's svelte frame crept behind Ms. Creek. "Oh…hi Tom."

"Veronica," Mr. Helper tied his flowing brown mane into a ponytail and cocked a playful eyebrow at her glass. "We wanted to know if you were coming out for margaritas. But looks like you started imbibing without us."

"She's busy with lesson plans," Ms. Creek grabbed Tom's shoulder and tried in vain to spin him around. "Maybe we should-"

"I can speak for myself, you don't own the whole language just because you teach it!"

"I teach pre-algebra, Veronica!"

"Whatever!" Veronica smacked her notebook off the desk, sending a dozen papers and envelopes flying. "You're driving!" She jabbed a finger towards Tom while storming past him and leading the trio down the halls. "And buying!"

As Tom and Angela followed after her, a single piece of paper partially tumbled out of an enveloped labeled **Class List.** Two names peeked out - James Neutron and Cynthia Vortex.

* * *

 **A few more people to thank are some of my other great reviewers and readers. I appreciate Joe Soppinghem, GoodForBad, EugeArg, and TheRealJeff for reviewing and following my recent stories. While with my most recent fanfics I've tried to follow the old adage "Write for yourself first," I still appreciate it whenever anyone else shows they're interested in my work.**

 **The penultimate people I should thank are the band Lord Huron. who have been a huge inspiration to me ever since I discovered their music last year. All of the chapter titles in this story are names of their songs. I've definitely spent many hours writing to them, and their piece, "Wait by the River," particularly drove this story.**

 **And last but not least, I thank you. Whoever may be reading this epilogue right now, you are one of the people I wrote this story for. Whoever still cares about this fandom after all these years, whoever was willing to read this ridiculous story, I truly hope you enjoyed it. And though I've long given up begging for reviews, I will say that you don't have to be a stranger. I'd always love to hear from you, whether it's a review or simply a conversation about this show which has given us both so much.**

 **Thank again, JN fandom. I'm sure I'll see you around.**

* * *

As the sun threatened to set over Brittany Tenelli's house, her pool party was only just getting started. Fourteen kids took part in a half dozen carefree scenes in her backyard. Tristan and Tina Sue lugged out a few old tiki torches from her shed and set them ablaze. Angie and Libby viciously crushed Bolbi and Wendall in a game of badminton. As soon as the rackets dropped to the ground, they strolled over to the grill. Sheen and Carl were happily whistling over the roaring flame, piling up plate after plate with hot dogs and hamburgers.

Jimmy beat his chest and roared like Tarzan before diving into the pool, shouting, "Cannonball!" as he descended into the clear depths.

The wild waves Neutron wrought wrecked over Butch; the bully cried out, "Watch it!" while releasing his grasp on Oleander. The gasping redhead burst above water and breathed in a lungful of precious air while thanking James.

Watching it all were Betty and Cindy, sprawled out in bathing suits on a pair of sunchairs beside the pool.

"Hey ladies!" Brittany cooed while strolling up with a tray of glasses. A pitcher of lime-green liquid rested between them. "Anybody for some margarita mix?"

Betty and Cindy stared at their ice-riddled glasses of lemonade, then shared a glance. Betty smiled at Brittany and said, "I think we're good, thanks."

"Whatever, prudes," Brittany sashayed away. "When the parents are away, Brittany will play!"

Betty and Cindy watched her stumble towards the grill. Betty pulled her sunglasses down her nose and asked, "Does she know the mix doesn't have -"

"No, she doesn't," Cindy sighed while leaning back in her chair. "And I'm fine with that."

"I am too," Betty agreed while settling back into her own chair. Both girls had just gotten comfortable when footsteps squeaked beside them.

"Cindy?" Angie nervously asked.

Cindy straightened up and took her own sunglasses off. "Hey," she said. "What's up?"

Angie rubbed her arm and said, "Carl mentioned over there," she motioned back at the grill, "how you were all going to see a movie tomorrow."

"Yeah, Make a Move," Cindy agreed. "I heard it ends on a heck of a cliffhanger, but the ride's still worth it."

Angie nervously shifted her eyes back and forth before stammering, "Anyway, I kind of invited myself along. As Carl's date. And he accepted." She offered Cindy a nervous grin and asked, "Is that okay? I know I should have asked, but-"

"I think it's great," Cindy interrupted. "And if you need any help, just toss some popcorn at me. Much to my chagrin, I know Carl better than just about anybody."

Angie beamed and said, "Thanks, Cindy!" She cast a friendly nod Betty's way and then dashed back over to her soon-to-be date.

"That was nice of you," Betty said from behind her sunglasses.

Cindy stared at Quinlan; the shades prevented Cindy from telling if Betty was looking back. "Well, I did execute her last night."

Cindy settled back into her seat; now it was Betty's turn to glance at Cindy and be met by shades. "You're not the only person to do something they regret back there." Betty sighed and said, "I hate to admit it, but I owe you an apology for the library. I was toying with Jimmy and I knew it. I was," Betty swallowed hard and glanced at the ground, "acting like the girl you always hated."

"Quinlan," Cindy said while ripping her shades off. Betty gently removed her own glasses, and the girls stared at each other. "I know now you're not really like that. I think I always did. So don't apologize for last night. Because then I'd have to say I'm sorry for all the crap I gave you." Cindy smiled and said, "And I'm way too tired for that."

"Fair point," Betty grinned back, and both girls leaned back into their chairs. "I have to say, Vortex, I like this new zen attitude of yours. Is James that calming of an influence on you?"

"Maybe," she admitted. "But Nick's right. There's no way any of us are going to survive middle school unless we stick together. So let's just leave those old hatches buried at Lindbergh. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Betty pointed at James as he, Butch, and Oleander started to toss a beach ball around. "Should we join your boyfriend?"

Cindy's back reflexively arched, but she was pleasantly surprised to feel no urge to refute the brunette's remark. "We will eventually," Cindy assured Quinlan. "But right now? I want nothing more than to do nothing at all."

"I'll drink to that." Betty held out her sweating glass, and Cindy all-too-happily clinked hers against it. The two girls took a deep sip, closed their eyes, and fell asleep to the happy sounds of their classmates.

* * *

 **I don't know where Lindbergh's graduating class goes from here, but I have a feeling that as long as they stick together, they'll be fine.**

 ** _I stare into the endless sky and I saw a tale of my life go by._**

 ** _I drift into the great unknown._**

 ** _I really don't know where I'm going._**

 **Lord Huron - "Fool for Love"**


End file.
